Risen From Legend (10)
by Deliverer
Summary: At first things were going well but naturally they don't stay that way. Mood swings and drama resulting in Hans' temporary exile, and Knights of legend stepping out of storybooks into reality is only the start of the drama happening in Elsa's second trimester. Now an enemy they'd hoped to see the last of is back and somehow it feels like the least of their worries. Unless it's not.
1. Past vs Present

**Angel in the Snow, Demon in the Shadows 10: Risen From Legend**

Past vs. Present

 _Avalon_

"Do you think there's a chance the Prince of the Southern Isles will spare Mordred his fate?" King Arthur asked his companion while leaning on the parapets, gazing down at a darkened Avalon now reflected his distress.

"I believe in the possibility," the man answered. "Should anyone help to change Mordred's fate, Arthur, it would be… well, it would be us, but that prince could certainly be a great help."

"All the other times, we never knew where he was. He was just… taken… And we didn't know where he was placed or even what year it was… Now we know where he is and we know the era, and we're still as helpless as we ever were…" Arthur said, looking miserable.

"Hmm…" his companion mused.

"I just… I want to be able to _do_ something," Arthur said.

The man was quiet. "Then, my son, as sure as my name is Uther Pendragon, I will see to it you will," the man answered, turning to Arthur.

"How sir?" Arthur asked meekly, voice wavering a bit.

"Child, leave everything to me," Uther said, turning his son's face to him.

 _And he had done just as he promised…_

KAK

"Choose among you a small company of knights, for a task is about to be given you that may well guarantee a mercy for the traitor knight," said the Elfin King.

"What?" Arthur breathed, pale. He and his knights gaped in shock at their visitors. Uther was, of course, unfazed.

"Ask no questions, young king. Only do," the Lady of the Lake said. "And I will bring them out of Avalon and into a world they do not know and will not be prepared for, for the sake of a doomed boy. A boy who, for some reason I cannot understand, the Grim Reaper, the Elf King, and Uther are convinced might this time be able to deny his fate where he has never been able to before. At least in some small way."

"Is your opinion, then, that he is doomed, lady?" the elf king challenged.

"My opinion is that he is too far gone to be saved. But I have been wrong before," she answered.

Now there Arthur and his knights were, totally thrown by this turn of events and suddenly in need of a decision. They had one chance at this. Only one. A single opportunity to make Mordred's case. A wrong choice could cost them. Cost _him_.

"Choose men that shall work in tandem with the princes of the isles. Men who shall compliment them… And at least one man to whom Mordred may bond and cling…" Thanatos said. The implication, they knew, was a brother. Or a father… But Arthur knew that that father couldn't be him… Even though part of him so badly wanted it to be, it couldn't. Not with how things had left off between them. Not now. He needed the man who had been more a father to Mordred than Arthur feared he could have ever hoped to be… He looked over his knights. Lot met his eyes, and there was no word that needed to be spoken. The man nodded to Arthur then rose and went to kneel before the entities, silently volunteering himself.

"There is a brother with control of fire, and a brother wielding magic which in part includes shapeshifting. Compliment it," the elf king hinted.

Arthur would defer to the wise and ancient elf's judgement on this. The king looked over his company. "Kay, Menw?" he asked.

"Without hesitation," Menw said, rising and bowing to Arthur before going to join Lot.

"As you command, brother," Kay agreed with a sigh.

Arthur looked over the others. "Dinadan, you and Franz seemed friendly," he said.

"Say no more," Dinadan said, smirking.

"I too will go, cousin," a knight by the name of Hoel said.

"And I," a knight, the Byzantine once-emperor Alexander, declared.

"Six will do well enough for now, with the possibility of others joining them later," Death said. Arthur nodded and looked them over. Lot, Alisander, Dinadan, Kay, Hoel, Menw… It was a company he felt comfortable sending out for the sake of the lost knight… For the sake of his son…

"Go and be safe. All of you. Please," Arthur said. They bowed to him and turned, following Death, the Elf King, and the Lady of the Lake away from Avalon…

 _Arendelle_

It had been a couple of months since the return from Agrabah. Elsa's belly was showing a bit now, and it was only serving to worsen Hans's nerves. Her frequent abnormal attacks and the toll they were taking on her weren't helping matters. His brothers had returned to the Southern Isles. Runo had wed the fairy maiden who had been raising his children, in accordance with the deal that had been made. He had taken her and them into his house and thus far it seemed everything was well on that front. Little Elias had greatly improved, and now it seemed he might stand a chance at surviving infancy. Lars had begun to express some measure of interest in the nursemaid Nancy, whom they'd brought with them back to the Southern Isles and who had been an absolute rock for him. The triplets had married their fiancée's and wasted _no_ time impregnating them. Iscawin was growing interested in the woman Layla. The other brothers had taken to spending much, much more time with their children and families, focusing on the islands they ruled and settling into their rolls more consistently. Louise was still being battled over by Franz and Jekyll, and was loving every minute of it… Really all was going quite well.

Except for the mood swings.

"I can't even stand the taste of it anymore!" Elsa wailed to him. He stood there hopelessly, patting his sobbing wife's back in vague annoyance. All this drama for the fact she didn't like the taste of chocolate anymore?

"There, there, it'll come back, my love. You'll soon return to adoring chocolate again," he hopelessly said, trying to sound concerned but really not giving two flying flips about the so-called 'crisis'. Well, at least she wasn't freezing the palace in a temper tantrum over it anymore, as she had done when she'd first learned.

She sniffed. "You think?" she asked, looking up at him with watery eyes. His gaze softened a bit. He had trouble staying annoyed at those eyes. She seemed so genuinely distressed. He'd learned early on, though, not to let his guard down when she used those eyes. The gaze was usually the precursor to a sudden firecracker temper. One wrong word, you were in trouble.

"I do," he answered genuinely. "You'll be back to eating as much chocolate as you want with Anna soon enough." He bit his tongue sharply. He shouldn't have mentioned Anna. As of late, she'd become a trigger to rage. Sure enough…

"Anna… I haven't even spoken to her for a month good riddance!" Elsa said, turning her back on him and folding her arms. "She's so petty! What? I say one thing she doesn't like and suddenly I'm public enemy one?"

Hans winced. Honestly, he was completely on Anna's side. That 'one thing' Anna hadn't liked had been Elsa calling her out for being overly clingy and excited and putting her down for thinking that Elsa's pregnancy must be fun. Elsa had basically told her sister that the baby was hers not Anna's, to stop acting like they shared it, that her pregnancy was not in fact fun, and had then told her to never bug her again. Anna had burst into tears, Elsa's remark about the baby not being Anna's unintentionally triggering horrible memories, for which Elsa had felt horrible. Anna had then screamed 'I hate you' and run off to her husband. She had been staying there ever since except for the occasional tentative visit. Those visits always opened with a tearful and genuine apology from Elsa, then always ended in Anna in tears and fleeing because she couldn't handle the fighting they inevitably ended up doing. After the third time Anna left in tears, Hans told his sister-in-law to stay away until he gave the all-clear. Just to spare herself pain. Right now, with Elsa's emotions and hormones all over the place, it was best the sisters stay apart for the time being.

Elsa, as if realizing her own words, sniffed and began to break down again. "I'm a terrible person!" she wailed. "I've ruined my relationship with Anna forever!"

"No, Elsa, no. Anna adores you, you know that," Hans quickly tried to soothe. Ugh, this being supportive was for the birds. "She loves you and always will. She'll come back, just wait and see, and she'll forgive you and everything will be okay."

"Yeah?" Elsa asked.

"Yeah, of course," Hans said.

She hugged him. "You're too good to me, Hans," she said.

He winced, feeling a bit guilty. "Uh, yeah… Sure…" he replied.

She frowned up at him sternly, catching the self-deprecating implications of his words. She'd become much more attuned to his uncertainties with her pregnancy, and now that she was, she was more worried about him than ever. "You are," she said. "You're a good man. And you'll be a great dad."

He shifted a bit, unconvinced, but then forced a smile. "Maybe you're right," he said.

"Of course I am," she teased, grinning gently and starting to fiddle with his trousers. He smirked but moved her hands away. She gave him a frowny pout.

"Oh, don't think I'm not tempted," he said. "Unfortunately, both of us have work to do. Too much to take the time for that right now, darling. But later. I promise." She considered his words then nodded in agreement. He smiled. Lately she'd been really, really… amorous, for lack of a more couth word. _Extremely_ amorous. He wasn't necessarily complaining, but at times it was a little much even for him. He had no clue why she was being that way, but Jekyll had informed him that often at this stage in a pregnancy there was an increased drive for such things.

Frozen

"What's the plan?" Elsa asked as they walked arm-in-arm.

"Foreign dignitaries, listening to petitions, granting requests… The usual, honestly," he replied.

"Hmm, boring," she said.

"I know, love," he said. "Uh… how about letting me take the lead for this?"

"Why?" she suspiciously asked.

"Oh, just… because," he answered vaguely. The honest truth was, this pregnancy had turned her into a serious b-i-t-c-h queen at times. Thus far her people had been patient, for the most part, but it was starting to grate on them.

"Very well," she relented with a sigh. He nodded. He knew part of Elsa knew how totally jerkish she was being as of late, so he was glad she was letting this go without a fight. Hot temper, bad attitude, forked tongue, weepy… Yeah, it hadn't been fun. He liked the sappy and snuggly days though. And the adventurous and happy ones. "Have you been keeping in contact with your friends as of late, love?" Elsa asked, hand resting on her stomach subconsciously and softly rubbing it. He smiled and felt her belly gently as well. Movement was more pronounced now. Weak, but more pronounced. He was a little concerned, at this stage she should be bigger than this, but Jekyll had assured him it was probably going to just be a small baby. There'd been a brief panic where he'd been worried they were talking Elias small, but Jekyll had brushed it off and all but guaranteed the child would be bigger than that, as Elias had been premature. He could hear it moving too, sometimes, when he listened, and he wasn't sure, but he suspected he'd head a heartbeat as well. "Hans," Elsa gently and amusedly said.

"Huh?" he said, starting and looking up at her like he'd been caught doing something bad.

"Your friends. Have you been in contact with them? How are they?" she asked, grinning in amusement. Often her husband would become totally distracted and engrossed with the child and tune out of everything didn't include marvelling over it.

"Oh. Th-they're good," he replied. "Harald is still trying to choose between the two young women he's fond of, Carl is busy with duke things as per usual, Edvard is stressing himself over this whole Louise situation, Charles is working on an absolutely excellent new book but having some family drama meanwhile… Same old same old, really. Lord Alfred Tennyson, Lars's friend, has often stopped by to check on Elias and on us, so I've been friendly with him lately too. And with Eugene. Oh. Eric as well, Justic's friend. You remember Prince Eric and his wife Ariel?"

"I remember," Elsa confirmed, nodding. "The Little Mermaid only with a happy ending?" she teased. He blushed a bit and she giggled, squeezing his hand and resting her head on his shoulder as they entered the throne room.

Frozen

A couple hours in, Elsa was restless and letting slightly biting remarks slip out that Hans had to quickly cover, to her annoyance. She was doing good at letting him take the lead though, so that was something. She was obviously fighting to restrain herself. Honestly, he couldn't blame her for some biting remarks. There were quite a few petty and honestly pathetic problems and complaints coming in today. There'd been a complaint to her about why she was letting her 'traitor king' lord it over her, and she'd nearly gotten up and gone at the woman, but Hans had managed to keep her sitting and neutralize the ice magic she attempted to send out. Another man had remarked about her finally understanding a woman's place, but Hans knew it had always been an inside joke between Elsa and him. He never really meant it—he deeply respected Elsa and was quite supportive of the rising women's movement—so she never took it seriously. Normally they laughed it off with some quirky banter back and forth, but this time she seemed to have forgotten that fact and Hans had had to swiftly move in front of her before she could toss aside that adorable little friendship she and the man had going on. He'd personally guided him out and hastily apologized while explaining the situation. The man got the picture and apologized in turn, leaving quickly just to be safe.

"Really Elsa, you know he never means it," Hans said.

"I know! I'm sorry. I just reacted," she said, looking a bit concerned and embarrassed.

"He doesn't hold a grudge," he assured with a sigh. He bit back a remark about this getting out of hand, though, lest she turn her wrath on him.

"King Hans?" Kai said, entering the room and holding out a letter to Hans. "From your brother."

Hans glared at Kai, unimpressed. "Really?" he said flatly. He had thirteen of them. Kai knew that, dammit. Kai kept a totally neutral expression except or a brief moment where his lips quirked into a slight smirk. Hans sighed in annoyance when Kai stayed silent. "Which one?" he grumbled.

"Calcas," Kai answered.

"Thank you, Kai," Hans said. He took the letter and opened it, pulling the message out. Slowly a frown began to cross his face.

"Hans?" Elsa asked in slight concern. No response. He was reading a bit quicker and almost urgently now. "Hans," she repeated a bit firmer.

"Hmm? Oh, Elsa, sorry," he said, turning back to the letter.

"What's happening?" she asked.

"Oh, nothing out of the ordinary," Hans said, sighing. "Agitating, as usual."

"Oh?" she said, pressing.

"He's just being a brat," Hans said. "Hey, you have an appointment with Jekyll soon, right?"

"Yes?" she replied, raising an eyebrow.

"Okay. How about we clock off early, you can get to your appointment and maybe get in sooner, and I can go reply to this?" Hans said. "Then perhaps we slip into town in disguise and have lunch?"

She smirked. "Daring. Alright. Let's," she said. He smiled.

Frozen

Hans went to the study and lay the letter down, glaring at it seriously and rereading it. Shortly after returning from Agrabah, his brothers had taken it upon themselves to track down the infant he'd spared from death and placed in the orphanage. Said infant happened to be who this letter was about…

The boy was seven or eight now they'd determined, thereabouts. In Avalon a knight in Arthur's court, Morganore, had kindly informed them that when they used the term 'coming of age' in Mordred's case, it meant the age he'd been when he'd 'officially' joined the Knights of he Round Table, that age being fourteen. He was only halfway there, which was semi reassuring. What _wasn't_ was this letter. In it Calcas informed him they'd found the child. He had migrated to his brother's isle. That meant he was gradually getting closer and closer to the mainland, which in turn meant odds were the boy was searching for him. It was… unsettling. He'd said little about the experience in Avalon to Elsa, avoiding going into detail for the sake of her peace of mind and to a degree his. Deny it, it wasn't happening. Then his brothers had taken it upon themselves to look into the matter and the boy's history, and the more they uncovered, the less comforting it was.

Sure enough, as had been implied in Avalon, the boy's life thus far had been nothing short of hell. After being spirited away from the burning orphanage, he'd been placed in another. It was a cold, unfeeling place where children often were neglected and where it wasn't uncommon for babies to die of loneliness. He'd been taken from that place—read stolen—by a woman who'd lost her baby and went a bit crazy in her grief. She was completely unstable and unfit to mother. Should have been put in an asylum, as Calcas flatly put it, and Calcas never, ever endorsed the madhouses that were asylum's, for the horror stories told about them. The infant had almost died under her care and in fact would have—she lost her head and attempted to murder him, reliving losing her child—when he was saved by a young couple. Neighbors. They'd been good for him. Then had died, of course, because why not? Lived just long enough for him to get attached before being ripped away. Orphanage—read slave shack—again, ran away, became a street urchin going through hell each and every day and doing all manner of things to even just stay alive, was trafficked and sold into slavery and grossly abused for years, was kidnapped during the raid on Jurgen's island during the Ice Maiden incident, attempted to escape his captors on a ship bound for Connyn's island that turned out to be the pirate Xe's, was sold _back_ to said captors and even _more_ grossly abused, and had been kept their slave from that point on. Recently he'd been taken by his slave masters to Calcas' island. On the boy's recommendation.

Like Hans had said. Nothing short of hell. In fact, up until very, very recently, the child had continued their slave.

Now, this was the part Hans had to read again and again, puzzled. _All_ his brothers were confused, in fact. The boy had come to Calcas's island still enslaved. Calcas had spotted him being led off the boat in chains, along with a group of other little ones captured by those slavers, and had tried to go after him. He'd tracked the child into the forest and found only bodies… The bodies of every slaver that had come off that ship… The rest of the little ones who'd been enslaved to the group were still there, huddled together scared and weeping. But not Mordred. Calcas had asked who'd done this, expecting the answer to be Mordred. They'd semi-backed that suspicion saying that yes, he'd tried to kill them, but no he hadn't been able to. The slavers had thrown him down and begun to hurt him with everything on the ground and on their persons that could be used to hurt him with. Rocks, sticks, ropes, fists, heels, teeth, fingernails, broken glass, more…

And then they had told Calcas a man had come out of the woods…

They said he looked as if he'd stepped from a storybook, clad head to foot in beautiful silver armor. The children had been utterly awed at his magnificence. They said he drew a broadsword neatly and didn't even pause before he was upon their wicked masters, utterly destroying them in a furious rage. The man had finished with the slavers in short order and returned to the weeping and shivering and anguished Mordred. He'd rolled him over and Mordred had cried out, trying to protect himself, but the man gently pried his arms away from his face, and when Mordred saw him…

They told Calcas that Mordred had gone even whiter than he already was, freezing up totally with eyes wide in shock and disbelief and denial and hope and so many other things… And the man had called him by name, tears in his eyes, and softly smoothed back the child's hair and cupped his face and looked at him and soothed him and spoke at him and touched him like a father bereaved far, far too long of a beloved child. Mordred just hadn't known what to do, utterly stunned, until he had given an anguished cry and burst into tears launching himself into the man's arms. The man had wrapped him up in linen and rose and come to them as Mordred clung to him and shivered in his arms sobbing. He'd freed them, they said, and given them coverings and clothes and food from the dead slavers, and told them to wait because someone was coming soon. They had obeyed, and not five minutes after the man disappeared into the woods, taking away Mordred, Calcas had arrived on scene…

Hans sat back, reading over the letter once more. They mysterious man had been decked in shining armor… Needless to say, Hans and his now very wary brothers had uneasy suspicions. Calcas had asked for a description of the man. It matched, to a T, the description of King Lot of Orkney… He was surprised, frankly, that it hadn't matched Arthur's, but then again, thinking over the legends it was probably a good thing it _hadn't_. He considered the course of action to take here. Finally, he settled for only five words to reply with. He took a quill and paper and jotted them down determinedly.

 _I'm coming to visit you._

Frozen

As the ship sailed away from Arendelle, Hans couldn't help but feel he'd probably made a big mistake leaving Elsa with nothing but a hastily scrawled note that he'd be away for a few days. But she'd been napping after a sexual interlude they'd shared, and he hadn't wanted to wake her! He felt like he was going to regret it when he got back, though. She'd been very… protective and possessive as of late, clinging to him and not wanting him to ever be away from her side for long. Which, by the way, he was totally fine with. He didn't want to miss a second more of her pregnancy than he already had, and that was probably why she wanted him near too. However, there were some things that just needed to be done that they couldn't bring each other along for, and this was one, so yeah… Oh he was in trouble. He grimaced and sighed, focusing on the voyage again.

It was a surprisingly quick trip. The wind and currents both were in their favor, and the weather was gorgeous. They made it to the Southern Isles in record time and were soon enough pulling up to the docks on Calcas's island. His brother was waiting there for him. The ship docked, and he disembarked, leading Sitron along. "Easy boy," Hans soothed as his stallion balked a bit before following more obediently. "He's restless," he excused to Calcas.

"No need to defend your horse to me, Hans," Calcas replied, shrugging. "You realize you could have just used one of the horses in the stables, right?"

"No thanks," Hans replied. He was very particular about his horses. "Surprised you didn't invite Connyn and Coth."

"We're triplets, but we don't have to do _everything_ together," Calcas said, smirking. "Kind of capped it at the triple marriage then getting our wives pregnant at around the same time."

"Thought the simultaneous pregnancies were just coincidence," Hans said.

"They were," Calcas dryly said, grimacing. "Apparently we've been spending _too_ much time together." He doubted that had _actually_ had a bearing on the timing, but he was still going to dryly joke about it.

Hans smirked. "So just you and me then?" he asked.

"Yeah. I can't see this getting risky," Calcas replied. "How's Elsa?"

"Moody. Clingy. Ill-tempered. Weepy…" Hans answered. "Her pregnancy has been rough and painful, but thus far the baby is healthy, she's healthy, Jekyll seems pleased with the progress, and it's mostly good." Calcas nodded and smiled, mounting up. Hans did so too. "Right to it then?"

"Why not? You've eaten?" Calcas asked.

"Yeah," Hans replied.

"Good. And I've brought food and supplies, so everything should be alright," Calcas said. "Let's go." Hans nodded, and the two rode towards where Calcas had found the children and the bodies of the slavers.

Frozen

They rode a little beyond the clearing where the children had been discovered. "I stopped about here," Calcas said, pausing at a pass through a mountain. "I was alone. Wasn't going to tackle it solo just in case."

"Hmm… Let's go," Hans said. He began to ride into it carefully, keeping an ear out for anything that might be a threat. Calcas followed closely. The pass was quiet, nothing out of the ordinary, but lengthy. It was a good while before they finally came out on the other side and emerged into a large, beautiful meadow. They gasped, scanning it.

"Hans, look!" Calcas exclaimed, pointing at something. Hans looked over and started. Far in the distance stood the ruins of an old but beautifully preserved medieval building! A small, unimposing, single-towered castle that was probably not much bigger than some large houses. They stared at it quietly, taking it in in wonder. "I never even knew this was _here_ ," Calcas said. "Wow. I've really got to explore this island more."

"Calcas, that castle. It's being used," Hans said, smelling fire smoke. It was followed by the scent of cooking food. Far off in the field were two horses. The two brothers exchanged wary looks and cautiously began to ride down. Suddenly they heard a threatening growl from behind and gasped, spinning. Their eyes widened. Up on the cliff crouched a massive wolf twice the size of any normal wolf!

"Holy shi…" Calcas began.

"A dire wolf?!" Hans asked.

"That's bigger than any dire wolf," Calcas replied. The horses, whinnying and freaking out, backed away in terror from the creature. It bared its teeth and leapt down, stalking towards them with a snarl, ears laid back against its head. Calcas pulled out a rifle quickly and took aim. It lunged, taking Calcas off the horse, which whinnied in panic and bolted.

"Calcas!" Hans exclaimed. He shot the creature with fire. It yelped, letting Calcas go and leaping away, jumping around. It spun on them, teeth bared and tongue licking angrily.

Calcas scrambled up looking horrified. "Uh oh," he said.

Hans glanced over and gasped. His brother's rifle had been bit in half! Their eyes quickly went to the wolf. To their surprise, the creature wasn't going after Calcas's horse to run it down. Instead it was wholly focused on them. They backed away carefully, Calcas drawing his sword and Hans drawing his, setting it alight. The wolf continued growling and stalking towards them. They kept backing up. Just then they heard a whinny. Calcas's steed. They quickly turned to look and gasped. There, holding the horse's reigns, stood a literal knight in shining armor! Calcas and Hans gaped in awe.

The knight warily stared at them. Hans and Calcas turned back to the wolf. It stood, posed to fight in case they made one wrong move. "Menw, let them come," the knight said. The wolf looked over, then back at them. It summed them up quietly, then to their utter disbelief its form began to warp and change, and they found themselves soon gawking in complete shock at a second knight!

The man summed them up quietly. "You shouldn't have come here," the knight, Menw, said. Turning, he headed back. Unsure what to do, they tentatively started to follow him and his companion down towards the ruins…

They entered the building where the knight who'd calmed the horse brought them. He walked ahead to a central fireplace and turned, summing them up cautiously. They recognized him and stiffened, eyes widening in shock. He soon sighed. "I expected our paths would cross again not long after my arrival," he said. "But I'd hoped it wouldn't be _this_ soon."

"Oh my god…" Hans said in awed disbelief. "It's you."

"King Lot of Lothian and Orkney," Calcas breathed, eyes wide. King Lot bowed his head to them as Menw moved to stand at his side, arms folded.

KAK

Hans and Calcas listened to the tale the knight told of how he had come to be here, about the visit from the Elf King, the Lady of the Lake, and Thanatos. "We were to be deposited in two phases, three for the first, three more for the second. It was Menw, Alisander, and I sent first. Menw was placed on the island from which Mordred was taken, and in the form of a whale followed the ship until he knew where it was going. Then he took to the skies in the form of an eagle and found me, and relayed the message to be ready. So, I went out and I found my son with those monsters, and I put them down like the beasts they were without regret… I took my child, left Menw to linger in secret and guard the others, and sent for Alisander to join us when he could."

"Has he yet?" Calcas asked.

"Turn around," a new voice replied. They spun, startled, and gasped. There, standing in the door, was a third knight!

 _Franz's Isle_

A man with long blonde hair tied back in a ponytail, and a rucksack over his shoulder, walked towards a town he saw in the distance, an excited smirk on his face. He scratched at his goatee, summarizing the place. It was a far cry from what he was used to, and he felt for a moment a bit unnerved, but curiosity got the better of him and he grinned, heading down. The first thing he'd done, when he'd found a set of century appropriate attire—at least he hoped it was century appropriate—was change out of his period clothing and into the more modern style. It was best not to draw attention to himself. He'd also left behind the armor he'd come in, in the ruined building he'd claimed. A building that would now serve as his secret stash and a grounding, familiar place for when this new world would undoubtedly become overwhelming.

He walked into the town and was almost instantly assailed from all sides with things he'd never seen before! Strange buildings of all sorts, two-wheeled modes of transportation that looked precarious and entirely unnecessary, clothing and outfits that had him utterly astounded—whether it was an improvement or not was up in the air for him—and foods of all kinds he'd never even thought of. His grin spread excitedly across his face and he took to sampling a bit of everything he could, looking around this new place in awe and excitement.

He spotted a group of beautiful maidens gossiping and laughing together and decided to take the chance. He moved right up to them boldly to attempt flirting in this century. "Ladies," he greeted, waggling his eyebrows. They looked confused, then intrigued. Smirks began to show up and a couple raised fans, though the man had no idea why.

"Stranger," one replied.

"Such interesting conversation this fine day," the man said. "Care to fill me in? I'm new to this town and information's not exactly forthcoming, it seems," he said.

"We're quite sure it's none of your business," another girl said, playing cold.

"Ah, such harsh women you are. You know, I can pay you," he said.

"You? A vagabond?" another asked.

"Who says I'll pay you with money?" he answered, grinning wickedly at them and winking. They flushed and looked unsure whether to be appalled or intrigued. "No, no ladies, nothing like that. Unless you want it of course. I was thinking more…"

"The prince is riding!" a voice called from somewhere suddenly, and immediately the roads began to clear. The man dropped the conversation, to the vague annoyance of the women who were starting to get curious, and followed the lead of the crowd. He watched down the road as the prince of this island rode along the street with a small entourage, likely on his way to either hunt or meet with a council. He recognized the man and lit up a bit, grinning. Franz-Neb. Well, now was as good a time as any, he supposed. As the prince was approaching, the people bowing at his passing, the man stepped boldly out.

"Franzie!" he greeted. "Long time no see!"

"Whoa!" Franz exclaimed, leaping back on his horse as a look of shock and horror crossed his expression. "The hell?!" Guards went to draw their swords to kill this intruder. "No, no, no, no, no, swords down!" Franz ordered. He looked ahead at the smirking intruder in disbelief. "Sir _Dinadan_?!" Dinadan grinned wickedly.

Frozen

Franz trailed behind Dinadan, now on foot, with mouth agape in shock as he continued trying to process and understand what the heck a knight of the round table was doing in his kingdom! The people, of course, hadn't caught on that that was what the guy was, the connection was probably a near impossible one to make, but _Franz_ knew. "Things have changed so much," Dinadan said from in front of him, wasting no time in checking out every stall and ware now that Franz had ditched his entourage. The prince had probably figured a knight of the round table was about the best protection he was gonna get, and he was right, so he'd just sent the others back and joined himself to Dinadan like a watchdog, after ordering his people to commence their business.

"What are you…?" Franz began.

"The hell kind of weapon is this?" Dinadan asked, taking a gun from a stall and frowning at it, trying to figure it out.

"The successor to bows and arrows and crossbows. Give me that!" Franz said, snatching it back and putting it away before Dinadan could hurt himself. "It's called a gun. Uh, why are you talking like this?"

"Huh? Oh, this laid-back thing? Pfft, like people ever really talked in all that ye olde poetic speak back then. It was pretty dubbed down from what you think it was. We used it to be formal! Any other time most of us didn't bother. I mean, Palamedes is perpetually stuck in ye olde mode, talks like that twenty-four seven, but the rest of us? Nah. I guess the older the knight the more formal they talked, but nowhere close to Palamedes' level," Dinadan said, brushing it off. "Ooh, what's this?" he asked, taking something else and examining it.

"No touchy!" Franz said, diving for it and quickly pulling it away from Dinadan with an alarmed look. "That would be an explosive."

"A what now?" Dinadan asked.

"Big boom, loud, mass destruction, mass death," Franz flatly said. He looked at the shopkeeper. "Really?" he demanded of the man.

"The miners need dynamite," the man replied, shrugging. "I keep it under lock and key. Usually."

"Make usually always and don't display this. Are you crazy? Wait to be asked for it," Franz said, handing it back.

"Is it like a firework?" Dinadan asked.

"You know what those are?" Franz questioned, frowning a bit curiously.

"Are you kidding? That stuff's been around for millennium," Dinadan said. "Yeah, we know what those are. The Chinese used them for weapons as well as for display. Pretty way to die. And messy." Franz blinked blankly at him. Dinadan smirked obliviously back until it got awkward, then shifted slightly. "So, where's the tavern?" he asked, clapping his hands together.

"You mean the bar? Saloon? Inn? Whatever you want to call it?" Franz said. "Right this way."

"Bar and Saloon? What was wrong with the word tavern?" Dinadan asked, frowning slightly but following him nonetheless.

"You know I honestly don't know," Franz replied. "Just slowly changed I guess."

"What else has changed?" Dinadan asked.

"A good bit. Hans is more up on language changes than I am, though," Franz answered.

"Eh, not important anyway. Let's get drunk," Dinadan said.

"Anyone else would say, 'this early'? I say why the heck not," Franz replied, grinning wickedly. Oh, he was gonna like this visit. He could worry about quizzing the guy later. Right now, it was party time.

Meanwhile...

"Where the hell is Dinadan?" Kay demanded testily, frowning and looking around for where the other had gone.

"Don't even ask," Hoel replied, grimacing and rolling his eyes. Kay blinked and sighed, face-palming. He needed no further explanation.

 _Calcas's Isle_

Hans and Calcas stared at the third knight who'd arrived in shock. "You've returned. Welcome majesty," Menw greeted Alexander.

"What was my empire has long moved on without me by now. You don't have to call me that anymore," Alisander said, walking passed the princes and up to Lot and Menw.

"Once you were the Byzantine Emperor. That's all that is required for me to call you majesty," Menw stated.

Alexander's gaze softened and appeared almost grateful. "You're okay?" he asked them, looking warily back at Hans and Calcas.

"They pose no threat," Lot said, arms folded.

"Hey! We resent that," Hans said. The three knights smirked in amusement but were unapologetic.

"What about the other three?" Calcas asked.

They winced, exchanging looks. "We… don't know. Nor were we supposed to. At least not yet," Alisander answered. "We don't know if the second phase happens now, years in the future, or what."

"We're feeling it out," Menw added.

Hans hesitated. "And… and the boy?" he asked, not quite feeling ready to use his name out loud. It just still seemed so surreal…

As if in response, they heard movement from somewhere. The knights looked over towards a door. Hans tensed nervously up a bit. Calcas squeezed his hand firmly and reassuringly to ground him. Menw and Alexander slipped away from Lot, leaving the man in direct line of sight the door, and Hans and Calcas held their breath…

"Lot?" a weepy voice called from the tower. A little boy, only seven or eight if that, appeared in the doorway to it, rubbing his eyes to wipe away tears. He clung to a little stuffed toy.

Lot looked over. "Mordred. What's wrong little one?" he asked, kneeling.

The little child hesitated then approached carefully. "A nightmare," he answered in a whisper, hanging his head. "I don't like to sleep, daddy… I mean Lot!"

Lot's gaze softened immensely. He took the boy into his arms gently and picked him up, rocking him. "You don't need to refrain from calling me your father, darling. You never did."

"But you're not," Mordred said.

"Sometimes being a father means being more than being just blood," Lot answered gently.

Mordred snuggled him a bit, though appeared unconvinced, then looked over and started, straightening up as he caught sight of Hans… The gaze that little boy gave… No child should be able to look at someone like that… The prince could feel the hatred building in those eyes… "What's _he_ doing here?" the little boy demanded in a cold and dark voice that _definitely_ shouldn't belong to a child.

Lot looked over at Hans. "He and his brother will dine with us," he answered, not directly replying to the question.

"It's the murderer prince," Mordred said, pointing accusingly at Hans.

"Mordred…" Lot began.

"I won't let you kill daddy! I won't let you!" Mordred screamed at Hans suddenly, almost leaping out of Lot's arms and making a startled Hans jump, totally taken aback. He felt an uneasy prickling up and down his spine. Oh, he didn't like this. Not one iota.

"I'm not here to kill him," Hans said.

"Then why did you come?!" Mordred demanded furiously.

"I…" Hans began. He trailed off.

"Because when knights in shining armor who look like they've stepped from story books start showing up, people start getting antsy. I have a job to do, protect this island, so I needed to investigate. I invited my brother along," Calcas smoothly covered. "I was… unaware you had been scarred by his wicked prince phase, child."

"You won't take Lot away! No!" Mordred screamed angrily, clinging to Lot possessively. "Lot, they won't take you, they can't! I'll-I'll _kill_ them first!"

"Mordred, enough," Lot firmly and sharply said. "They aren't our enemies."

"He killed them! He killed my mother and father!" Mordred said, pointing. "And burned up all the babies in the orphanage! I read it."

"The burning of the orphanage was my brothers!" Hans defended. Calcas gave him a dark scowl for throwing the others under the carriage. "What? Why am _I_ taking the fall for them?" Hans demanded in defense. Calcas rolled his eyes, shaking his head.

"I know, little one, I know," Lot gently soothed the little boy who was working himself up. "But he isn't here to kill me. Menw and Alisander wouldn't let him, you know that. Breathe, Mordred, breathe. Follow my breaths. In… Out… In… Out…" Mordred started to try and obey, and soon his breathing was becoming less panicky. He sobbed, burying himself in Lot's arms and holding him tightly.

"He can't take you. I won't let him. I won't," Mordred said.

"I know, little love, I know," Lot said, cradling him reassuringly. "Pretend, for now, he isn't here, and tell me, my darling, what you dreamt," he continued, carrying Mordred passed Hans and Calcas and outside where the child wouldn't feel so trapped and helpless.

"Mommy's song," Mordred mumbled in a watery voice.

Lot's expression darkened in disgust. "Then I will sing you a new one to take it away," he said.

Frozen

Left alone with Menw and Alexander, Hans and Calcas focused their attention on them slightly uneasily. "You're dead men," Alisander flatly said. "You'll be fortunate to survive this visit. He's plotting already."

"He has been for years, apparently," Hans slightly bitterly and slightly sadly replied.

"What scars is he dealing with?" Calcas asked in concern.

"Many deep and disturbing ones," Menw answered. "He'll let no one but Lot touch him, and even then he'll panic when taken by surprise or when having a flashback. He's afraid of darkness, afraid of tight or enclosed spaces, afraid of crowds, dislikes when strangers get within five feet of him, loathes baths, is terrified of bedtime, is terrified of sleeping…"

"He's a wreck. Let's put it simple," Alexander cut off flatly. "Whatever type of abuse you can think of, he's experienced it. Lot is literally the boy's lifeline. If not for him, Mordred would probably have starved himself to death by now or died of exhaustion. He has no appetite and won't touch food unless Lot gives him no choice. At times it must practically be forced into his mouth, but never by Lot, usually by one of us. He needs to be able to trust Lot unquestioningly. At bedtime, Lot has to be right in the boy's room laying at his side and holding him close for him to feel safe sleeping. Heaven forbid the man try and slip away. Panic ensues if Mordred awakens to find him not there. The kid is self-destructive and often hurts himself, not even necessarily intentionally, but just because he can't handle the emotions tearing through him on bad days and starts to fit like a madman… Yeah. Wreck sums it up."

"Really that's just a few of the major things," Menw said. "Then there are the small ones. Little seemingly random triggers here and there that throw him into a panic or have him huddling on the floor whimpering in a fetal position, and when you think about why they could have possibly triggered him, you get some pretty dark and disturbing ideas."

"For days after his rescue the little guy was catatonic. Lot fed him, gave him water, cleaned him up when he didn't get him to a lavatory in time, bathed him, moved him around, carried him outside to bring him for walks or rides… All the while Mordred was utterly listless… He did nothing of his own accord, just… just lay there. Like a doll being played with by a child, tended and moved and manipulated wholly by its owner," Alexander said.

"It was… hard to watch… Really, _really_ hard… Heartbreaking for us, to cut right to the core of it. It took the kid a long while to process he wasn't being hurt anymore or restrained or ordered around or ill-treated," Menw said.

"What does he know of _us_?" Calcas asked. He turned to his brother and unease flickered across his expression. "Of Hans?" he specified.

There was quiet. "Everything," Menw finally answered. And the way he said it? He _meant_ everything. "He reads whatever he can find on the topic of the 'Wicked Prince'. Books, newspapers—whatever newspapers are—scrolls, oral tales, old articles… He's obsessed with you…"

"And that's why you're a dead man walking," Alisander grimly finished.

"Maybe we should leave, Hans," Calcas uneasily said, not liking this.

"Does the kid have a weapon on him?" Hans incredulously asked.

"Aww, how cute. You actually think he needs a weapon," Alexander replied borderline condescendingly. Hans blinked and flushed in embarrassment, glancing sheepishly away. Calcas frowned warningly at Alexander. No one got to put their brother down but them.

"Alexander, behave," Menw muttered to his friend, catching on. Alexander frowned then sighed, relenting to keep quiet.

"We're leaving. Now," Calcas said. "We've seen all we needed to see."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Alisander asked suspiciously, raising an eyebrow.

"We wish Mordred no harm. We wish our brother even less. It means we'll be watching him. Closely. Making sure he stays far from Arendelle and Hans by any means necessary short of scarring him more than he's been scarred. We expect _you_ to do your jobs in that regard. He's your responsibility. You keep him as far away from our brother as you possibly can, or yeah, we'll go from allies to enemies real, _real_ quick. You don't want to make enemies in us."

"Are you threatening us?" Menw asked, eyes narrowing coldly.

"No. Stating fact," Calcas said.

"Enough, Calcas," Hans said. "We don't want to be their enemies anymore than they want to be ours. They'll do what they can, I'm sure, to keep their renegade knight in check."

"Oh bite us!" Alisander snapped. "Trust us, if we'd known what Morgause was doing, we would have put a stop to it."

"I can't see how in the world Lot could have been that oblivious to it when it was happening in his own house!" Calcas replied. "Blinded by love for that psycho, I suppose?"

Alexander made to go for his sword, but Menw held his arm away, though it was apparent it was in part to keep himself from going for his _own_ sword. The four glared at each other darkly. "Enough. All of you," Lot sharply commanded from the door. They looked over swiftly and spotted the man there, holding Mordred's hand. Mordred glowered up at them through dark bangs, glaring but being silent. They shifted uncomfortably and backed down from one another. Lot glared at them all. He wasn't certain what it was all about, but he got the feeling he could harbor a guess. He owed them no explanation. He looked down at Mordred. "Say what you wanted to say, son."

Mordred grimaced then looked up at Hans and Calcas with a rueful smile. "I'm sorry for yelling at you. I was just upset and tired. Would you like to stay for supper?" he asked in what sounded, at first, like an innocent tone, but ultimately came across as creepy because there was some undertone in it that definitely wasn't good.

Hans felt in himself the desire to reflect the child, but fought it down. Or so he thought. Turned out nope, he didn't. He knelt to the little one's level, a pleasant smile creeping across his face. "Of course, little one. My brother and I would be most honored to dine with you. Such a pleasant, gentle tempered little boy you are," he cooed in an equally innocent tone. Mordred's smile fell, and his expression darkened. He glared at Hans quietly. Han remained smiling agreeably back. Lot gave Calcas a questioning and suspicious look.

Calcas looked slightly mortified at his brother's actions and blushed on feeling Lot's scrutiny. "Err, Hans, get up. Please?" he said.

Hans frowned, expression darkening a bit in annoyance. He sighed and rose before smiling once more at Mordred, who glared, and turning back to his brother. "Guess we're staying for dinner," he said.

"I'm not sure that's…" Calcas began.

"It's a fine idea," Lot cut off. Calcas grimaced. Oh, he felt uncomfortably outnumbered about now. He was starting to regret not sending for Connyn or Coth. Or any of their other brothers, for that matter.

Frozen

Hans and Calcas sat across from Lot and Alexander. Mordred had wandered up to his room to wait to be called for supper. Menw was the one _making_ supper. "I like my meat without salt, Menw," Alisander called obnoxiously. "Oh, and be sure the vegetables aren't soggy." He was answered with Menw cursing him out in Greek and snickered, grinning wickedly. Lot rolled his eyes hopelessly.

"I take it neither of you cook?" Calcas asked.

"Do you?" Alisander asked with a snort.

Calcas flushed. "Uh… no," he admitted. Why bother learning when you had servants and palace chefs doing it for you? He was pretty sure _most_ royalty didn't bother learning, hence the reason both Lot and Alexander, kings, weren't even as much as _offering_ to help. Because they just couldn't. Menw, as far as he knew, was a knight that hadn't been of so noble a birth that he hadn't had to learn how to cook, so it was obvious who the housekeeper of this trio had to be. They'd probably starve without the guy.

"Kelin-Sel knows how. And I self-taught myself a few things," Hans defended, blushing a bit. Mordred wandered down the stairs and went into the kitchen.

"He likes to help Menw," Lot explained. "I allow it. I wasn't taught that basic life skill. I won't have Mordred in the same position."

"That seems… trusting," Calcas said.

"To see he's trusted is good for his emotional and mental development. It's been stilted enough by the damn slavers that had him," Lot said. Calcas and Hans exchanged uneasy looks. Was Lot seriously that oblivious and naïve? Mordred came out after a moment with goblets of wine and handed them out to the four men at the table quietly. "Thank you, Mordred," Lot said. He looked at Hans. "Oh, Prince Hans, you have less than me. Let's switch glasses." Hans and Calcas started. Hmm. He _wasn't_ as naïve and oblivious as they'd thought. Wow. The king was good. Show Mordred he trusted him without being a total fool or letting on that he was onto Mordred's game. If Mordred didn't know Lot was onto his game, the odds he'd outplay the man in future were lower. Still there, but lower.

"Yes, of course Lot," Hans replied, feeling a bit uneasy with the possibility of this close call. He slid over his goblet to Lot and took Lot's. He still hesitated. Maybe Mordred was onto Lot after all and had poisoned the king's drink knowing Lot would switch it! Or… maybe he was just paranoid. Nonetheless, he waited for Lot to take the first drink. Lot, sensing Hans's concern, raised the goblet to his lips. Mordred shifted and clambered quickly onto Lot's lap, taking the wine away from him.

"What's wrong, little one?" Lot asked innocently.

"I think Menw spit in that one," Mordred said. Calcas covered his mouth to hide a snicker. "I'll get you other wine."

"Really? Thank you, son," Lot replied, letting Mordred take away the goblet and scrambled off. Hans looked ill at ease and let out a slightly uneasy breath, sipping from Lot's goblet and really hoping it wasn't a mistake. He didn't feel any ill effects, so he would assume he was safe. Mordred returned slightly sulkily, handing a new goblet to Lot. Lot smiled at him and gently ruffled his hair before sipping from it. Mordred wandered off back to the kitchen with a little pout.

"Watch him to make sure he doesn't hurt himself, Menw!" Alisander called, frowning in some concern.

A pause. "Understood," Menw replied, catching onto the secret message quickly.

"Maybe _I_ should go back to watch him too," Alexander murmured.

"Menw will handle it," Lot assured.

Silence a while. "How did you not see what your wife was doing to him?" Hans finally asked, looking seriously at Lot.

Lot was quiet, staring into the goblet. "I did," he finally answered. "I pretended I didn't because the moment she realized I knew, it would have all been over for Mordred and Loholt both. She would have been subtle and careful no longer. She would have unleashed everything she had. Loholt wouldn't have survived and would have died even sooner than he did, and Mordred would have been lost to her manipulations and twisting long before he already was… While I was there, while she still needed to hide her evil from me, at least I could be something of a buffer and protection… And then I wasn't there anymore…" Lot said. Calcas and Hans looked confused.

"He died," Alisander quietly specified. "Things just went downhill for the kid from then on. Spiralled at a rate so fast none of us could even keep up except his brothers… Then _they_ weren't there…" Calcas and Hans were quiet, staring at the table. They didn't ask for more detail. They didn't want the knights reliving that time…

"My mistake was keeping what was happening to him in the immediate family… None of us were good at asking for help when we needed it, or sharing what we deemed personal family information," Lot said.

"Gawain told Arthur, Lot. After you were gone. Arthur tried to fill your shoes, he really tried so hard, but when Loholt… Suffice it to say, it didn't last…" Menw said from the doorway of the kitchen. They looked back at him. "Dinner's ready," he said.

"Thank you, Menw. We'd be lost without you no doubt," Lot said.

"Really?" Menw flatly said, unimpressed. "You know it wouldn't kill you two to take a couple lessons from me, right?" They were quiet. "Yeah, I thought it was probably just general disdain and laziness." They flushed but didn't confirm or deny the statement. Menw sighed, hopelessly rolling his eyes.

"What, our thanks aren't enough?" Alisander asked.

"Careful or I really _will_ spit in the food. Specifically, yours," Menw warned. He looked back into the kitchen and frowned. "Hey! Away from that cupboard little brat." He went back in and pushed Mordred out before retrieving the food and coming out with it. He glared at Mordred suspiciously. Mordred ignored him, climbing onto Lot's lap and plopping down blamelessly. Menw handed out the food. Lot moved Mordred onto his own seat, to Mordred's protest.

Menw was about to hand Hans his own food when he dropped it. "Oh blast! I'll get you more, your highness. My apologies." Mordred made a sound of dismay and frustration. Hans tensed up and grimaced, catching on. Oh, they should have just left. Menw left and retrieved another plate, giving it to Hans before cleaning up the mess from before in obvious annoyance. He carried it out then returned to join them. Mordred glared at him bitterly, then turned to Hans and commenced to general glowering.

"Mordred, eat up," Lot said. Mordred looked up at him then back at the food. After a moment he obeyed.

Frozen

Calcas and Hans prepared to leave. They'd waited until after Mordred had been put to bed before going. Lot, Menw, and Alisander stood outside with them. "You'll make it back in the dark alright?" Menw asked. "I can guide your way."

"We'll be fine," Calcas assured. Menw was quiet. "And you're gonna watch to make sure anyway, aren't you?"

"An owl's inconspicuous," Menw answered.

"I had no idea there was a shapeshifting knight in Arthur's court," Hans said in fascination.

"There were a good few knights who had powers or abilities," Menw said, smirking a bit.

"Fare thee well, majesties," Lot said. "As far as is in my power, I will keep Mordred away from you, I swear it… But I can make no guarantee… Fate itself is against him."

"Fate can be conquered," Hans answered. "Try harder than is in your power. Whatever it takes."

"As I intended," Lot said, bowing his head to the king-consort.

"Ride safe," Alexander said.

"Goodbye, knights," Calcas said, mounting up with his brother. With final waves, they galloped away from the ancient building to return to Calcas's palace. In the morning, Hans would leave for Arendelle again. The wind should be in his favor, and the weather. Possibly the current too, but that remained to be seen.


	2. Exiled

Exiled

Arendelle came into sight in the distance. Hans, peering through a spyglass, winced on spotting Elsa at the edge of the docks with arms folded and eyes narrowed, unimpressed. He winced and lowered the spyglass. Oh, _this_ wasn't going to be fun, he dryly said to himself.

Sure enough...

"Why would you do something like that? How could you?!" she yelled at him when they got home. "Just-just disappear with nothing but a note? Really?!"

"I didn't want you to worry. I was only going to be gone a few days to see my brother, that was it!" Hans said.

"That was _it_? You don't do anything without a purpose, Hans, so don't lie to me! Don't you dare! What if you'd died at sea? Or been killed on the Southern Isles?" she demanded.

"Well I wasn't either and now I'm back so drop it, Elsa! It's not important!" Hans insisted.

"To me it is!" she replied.

"You're overreacting!" he said. "Gods, pregnant you is annoying."

"How dare you?!" she furiously shouted, fuming and getting right in his face. He scowled challengingly at her.

"I dare!" he retorted sharply.

"You have no idea what this is like, you have no idea what I'm feeling, you have no idea how painful this whole thing has been for me so far, so you have no right to say I'm annoying!" she shot. "I shouldn't even _be_ in pain, Hans, but this stupid mixing of fire and ice within me ripping me apart from the inside out... For gods' sakes I don't even know if I can carry this baby to term! I need you _here_ , don't you understand that?" For the emotional support especially.

"I'm here now!" Hans replied. "You also need me alive, and it so happens my trip to the Isles helped to ensure I _stayed_ alive, so there!"

"Oh really? So now the truth comes out! What other information are you omitting?" she shot. "You can't keep doing this, Hans!"

"This information isn't your concern," Hans replied. "It doesn't affect you in any way _at_ all."

"If it involves the risk of your dying, yes it does! You're my goddamn husband!" she shot.

"Watch the language, 'dear'," he sneered. "Don't want the baby's first word to be a vulgarity now, do you?" She almost went to slap him before stopping herself with a scowl and turning her back on him, storming away. "Oh no, you don't get to walk away from this!" he shot, instantly going after her.

"Until the both of us are calm enough to actually listen to one another, yes, I do," she replied.

"I'm listening!" he shot.

"You aren't hearing a thing I say!" she shouted, turning on him.

"Because what you're saying is literally pointless!" he said.

" _Pointless_?!" she snapped.

"The what could have happened scenarios don't apply anymore, Elsa, because here I am!" he said, spreading his arms apart. "So drop the trip to the Southern Isles already!"

"Talk to me!" she insisted.

"I went to see to it that a would-be-assassin was being taken care of, that's the cut and dry of it," Hans said. "And he is, so all's well and you're freaking out over literally nothing!" he all but pled.

"That isn't nothing!" she shot. "You know what? I'm done. Don't come to bed tonight."

"Really? You're putting me in a guest room. Really?!" he angrily yelled.

"I'm putting you on the couch if you don't back off now!" she shot back. "Guest rooms off limits. Don't test me. Don't you dare."

"You know what, screw it. I _choose_ the couch," he replied. "Better than having to deal with your emotional breakdowns in the bedroom!" She screamed angrily, throwing something at his head, which he neatly dodged with a scowl. Turning she stormed away, slamming the door as she went.

"My _gods_ that woman!" he said throwing his hands up hopelessly. He turned around and froze on seeing Kai standing there blinking blankly and looking a bit concerned. Hans winced. "Oh… Hi," he said, wincing and forcing an innocent grin. Kai raised an eyebrow then beckoned for Hans to follow him looking for all the world like a disappointed dad. Hans winced, shifting, and followed him in utter embarrassment. Oh boy…

Elsa, meanwhile, walked into the next room near tears and froze, catching her breath. There stood the visiting Duke of Weselton looking concerned but also disappointed. "We need to have a little chat, my dear," he said. She grimaced, shifting, then sighed defeatedly. She guessed she probably wasn't getting out of this one.

Frozen

Hans and Kai walked in silence, Hans just waiting for Kai to say something. He didn't. "She was being totally unreasonable!" he finally blurted, unable to keep quiet waiting the man out anymore. Kai raised an eyebrow at him. He shifted a bit. "Right?" he lamely asked.

"Maybe a bit paranoid, but that was no reason for you two to lose your heads at one another. In case you failed to notice, there are certain hormone imbalances that take place with pregnancy. That sometimes make a woman act very… different, compared to what you're used to," Kai said. "You certainly don't deal with those mood swings in anger. You've handled this whole thing well so far, Hans. What's changed?"

"Uh, I'm at the end of my rope?" he flatly and sarcastically replied. "Ow!" he said as Kai hit him lightly in the back of the head. He frowned at the man, rubbing the spot.

"That, Hans, is exactly when you most _need_ to be calm," Kai said. "Yes, it's difficult, but it's worth it. You wouldn't be on the couch tonight if you'd kept calm."

"What, you think I was kidding about sleeping on the couch being a welcome break from hormonal Elsa?" he flatly asked.

Kai sighed. He supposed Hans could have used a worse word than 'hormonal'. He wouldn't have been… entirely off base with it. She was indeed a handful these days. Of course, her mother had _also_ been quite the handful when she'd been pregnant with the girls. "I'm saying that now that you've been banned from your room, you likely won't get a chance to make up with her. Then tomorrow tensions will still be high, and things will be awkward, and the odds of you two blowing up at one another again are increased tenfold. Need I go on?" Hans winced, saying nothing. "You must try to understand how stressful this is for her."

"What about her understanding how stressful this is for _me_?" Hans demanded. "Kai, I'm freaking out here! I don't know what I'm doing, I don't know what's going on, I don't know what the future's hiding, I hate knowing that this time that should be happy for her is painful instead and likely because of _me_. I'm totally out in the dark here and I don't know what to do! There are so many what-ifs my head feels like it's going to _explode_ sometimes."

"She must also try and understand how stressful this is for you, but she's going through at least a fair bit of that too, plus the hormone changes," Kai said. Hans sighed in frustration, running a hand through his hair and shaking his head. Gods he hated this drama. "Hans, tomorrow talk to her. Try to make things right. It's for the best. Don't walk away from it." Hans was quiet. He wasn't sure if he could _make_ that promise right now.

Frozen

The Duke sat quietly as Elsa vented at him in tears, all too willing to open up about all the things she was feeling right now. It was quite the dizzying array, he had to admit, but none of it anything new to him. He'd dealt with his own pregnant wife, so this was at best just bringing back fond memories he'd hated then but looked back on with wistful longing now. Finally, she finished. He patted her hand gently as he went through the vent mentally again. The summary of it was she'd been scared to wake up and find him gone, she'd been terrified no word came from him to her since he'd left, she'd been afraid he might have been lost to her forever… All of those were justifiable worries, especially now given her condition. Her obsessing over it now that he was back safe, though? He could certainly understand the king-consort's annoyance. However, her obsessing over it was in a way justifiable too. Really all that boy had needed to do was promise it wouldn't happen again and maybe she would be taking this all much better.

Elsa, you see, knew her husband perhaps better than Hans was willing to know _himself_ ; and she understood, as she'd expressed to him in her venting, that when he didn't make promises, it was because he wasn't going to keep them if he did. Which implied he would likely pull off a stunt like this once again and put her through this fear another time. Elsa did not like being out of control in that regard, and he could understand why. Wandering off on someone with little more than a note left behind when they were in a precarious and potentially dangerous situation? It was frankly callous. At other times perhaps she wouldn't have been so deeply angered at the action, but right now? This pregnancy hadn't exactly been easy, and with Anna's losing her baby, and a family history of stillbirths and miscarriages, Elsa's growing paranoia was reasonable. She needed her husband _here_. She didn't need him wandering off to go to sea without saying goodbye or expressing exactly why it was so important he go. He would have to have a talk with that boy, he decided. But then perhaps Kai would cover that well enough.

"There, there, my dear," he finally said. "I understand how very trying his wandering must be for you."

"Wandering?" she asked, looking hurt.

"Travelling," the Duke amended. Wandering could mean more than one thing. She realized she was probably overreacting to suspect him of any such thing, but still the unease was there. "It must be difficult, having no control of it," he said. She was quiet, head bowed low. "You should talk to him, perhaps, about how it effects you."

"He won't talk to me," she quietly said.

"Of course he will, Elsa," the Duke replied. "Has he ever not?"

"Yes," she flatly said.

"All the time?" the Duke dryly challenged. She winced, shifting a bit. "I thought so," he said. "Perhaps taking a break from one another is a wise thing to do."

"Taking a break?" she asked, fear filling her eyes.

"Not like that!" he quickly rushed to cover. "I mean taking some time to cool down after this fight is for the best. Once you're both calm, you can have a proper conversation about it all and perhaps make things right."

Elsa relaxed. A lot. "Maybe you're right," she finally said. "Thank you, dear Duke."

"Of course, my dear. Maybe even tonight you might make up," the Duke said. "But… give it some time. Time for you both to take a few breaths." Elsa nodded in understanding.

Frozen

Elsa couldn't sleep. That became obvious when she found herself still staring out the window passed midnight. She wondered if he was having trouble sleeping too or if being away from her was his first good night's sleep in a while. She winced at the thought, hurt and guilt-stricken at the thought. She let out a breath and closed her eyes to try and sleep again. She made a sound of discomfort as another spell threatened to start up. "Hush, little one, hush. Please," she willed in a whisper, placing her hand on her stomach. Of course, it probably wasn't even the baby doing it, she couldn't assume it was. But if it wasn't the baby then it was her own body and that was more terrifying still… Maybe the baby could protect itself from her body. If it had powers of its own, maybe that was why both cold and hot hit at the same time. On the other hand, if the baby had no say in it at all then it was completely at the mercy of the mixing of her and her husband's abilities battering it from all sides. Probably fighting one another over which one got to take the child from her... She shuddered at the idea and groaned softly as the pain began to pick up.

Hans, meanwhile, glared up at the ceiling cursing it for keeping him awake even though it obviously wasn't. His lack of sleep was all him. Concern came to his eyes. Was she alright? Was she sleeping okay? What if another spell came over her? He hated when those happened. All he could do was hold her close and wish it could make the pain go away. If it was more cold than heat, he could soothe it. When it was more heat than cold, he was pretty well useless. Mostly it was balanced, though, and he could still do maybe a little, but… He grimaced and closed his eyes, shoving the heels of his palms into them with a groan. Okay, he had to stop thinking. He needed to sleep. Just sleep. There was nothing he could do for her anymore and he just had to accept that and sleep… Except accepting it was proving herculean…

Elsa whimpered, really wishing for the comforting embrace of her husband right about now. It made these spells seem more bearable, and as luck would have it, it was mostly cold this time which meant he could have soothed it too. She cursed under her breath, gripping her pillow. She suddenly really, really wished he was here… She wanted to go to him, except she was afraid that if she tried to get up and walk when she was in this kind of pain, she might fall and damage the infant. If Dr. Jekyll were here, she'd call out for him—he'd taken to sleeping in the room adjacent to theirs, where the nursery would be, in case he was needed—and ask him to carry her to Hans. Except tonight Jekyll was at home. The Duke was too frail, Kristoff was too far, Erik and Francis were too far… She was on her own, so she braced for it. It wasn't like she couldn't deal with these spells alone. She had many times before while Hans had been with his brothers in Agrabah.

Hans had finally drifted into a light and fitful sleep around two or three in the morning, probably. And by sleep he meant he was still semi-aware of everything so it didn't feel like sleep even though it was. He felt a hand take his and frowned, opening his eyes warily. He started on seeing who it was. Elsa, perched on the edge of the couch and looking torn as to what to do. He blinked sleepily at her, trying to determine if it was a dream or not. He sighed and closed his eyes again. He still felt her there, holding his hand. He groaned in vague annoyance and pulled her onto him, throwing the blanket he was using haphazardly over her as well. She didn't protest and in fact settled herself on him. Which couldn't be comfortable, so he rolled over onto his side keeping her firmly pressed between himself and the back of the couch. He was really glad it was a wide couch. He wrapped his arms around her and rested his cheek on her hair. She was shivering a little, probably another spell, and he cursed himself for not being there, so he held her tighter and soon they were settled and finally managing to get some sleep.

Frozen

There was silence between them the next morning, sitting in a breakfast nook with him reading a paper boredly and her sipping at tea and eating one of the breakfast cakes Gerda had made. She watched him quietly. "Can we talk?" she finally said, taking the initiative.

"There's nothing to talk about. Can't we leave it at you were right I was wrong?" he replied. She winced. He glanced over at her and sighed, laying the paper down. "Fine. Where do you want to start?"

"I… an apology. For overreacting," she said.

"Fair enough," Hans replied. She waited for him to speak and he frowned, realizing she was waiting for an apology too. He grimaced then shook his head, mentally kicking himself and telling himself to grow up. "I'm sorry I left without explaining why," he relented. "Just… it was kind of spur of the moment."

"Why did you leave so fast after reading your brother's letter?" she asked.

"Because I've made a lot of enemies, Elsa, and one was creeping out of the woodwork with obviously less than friendly intentions," Hans replied. "I can't risk that. Not when my life is finally coming together. Not when I have a baby on the way with my pregnant wife, who I don't want to leave a widow. I had to deal with the situation."

"Deal with it?" she asked a bit uncertainly.

"There was no death," he said, knowing immediately what her concern was. "There was a warning and there was putting him into… let's say custody." Technically it was custody. Lot had custody over Mordred, see? Totally custody. He wasn't about to tell her this potentially deadly enemy was a seven-year-old, one-thousand-plus-year-old, reanimated Knight of the Round Table with serious daddy issues and a spirit of vengeance that frankly rivalled, if not shamed, his own, whose doom had been to be dragged out of Avalon for repeated and hefty punishment. That would be a _way_ too complicated story to explain. And would probably land him in an asylum. Heck _he_ still thought it was insane.

Elsa was quiet. "And it's a certainty he won't come for you?" she asked.

"For now," Hans confirmed. "We're keeping an eye on it, but I'm not concerned. At all." Not until the kid hit fourteen, at least. Which gave him seven years to figure out how he wanted to put a stop to whatever might come from that boy. If all else failed at least his child would remember him, he guessed. Which was an icy cold comfort if ever there was one.

Elsa was quiet, playing with her cup. "I'm sorry. About the argument. About how I acted."

"No, it's… You weren't in the wrong, sweetheart," he said. "I shouldn't have gone without explaining things to you and letting you have a say in it. I mean… you were right. It's not only me, anymore, who will be affected by any vengeance-seeking assassins lingering around."

"It was never only you, Hans," Elsa said, covering his hand with hers. He stared at it a moment then turned his hand, holding hers.

"Yeah… I guess," he replied. No use arguing that for the majority of his life his brothers probably would have cheered on the assassin, and his father would have watched in disappointment as he failed to defend himself against one. Then probably not even give him a proper burial because of said disappointment. Ultimately neither she nor Anna nor Kristoff had ever known that side of his brothers, and they never would, so that was kind of a past he was still semi-dealing with solo. All of them were. He sighed and looked at her. "I'll tell you more next time. I promise," he said.

"Next time?" she asked uneasily.

"I don't plan on going back anytime soon, so don't worry about that," he replied, smirking. "At least not for the duration of this pregnancy." She smiled at him approvingly and leaned forward, kissing him softly. "We should get ready to hold court," he said, smiling at her softly when she pulled back. Elsa looked a bit self-conscious at the remark. He frowned. "What is it?" he asked.

"I don't exactly look my best today," she replied. "I look so bloated."

Hans raised an eyebrow. _That_ was something she usually never worried about. Ever. "My darling, you look wonderful," he said, deciding to try and cheer her up. "The bloat isn't _that_ bad. Besides who knows? Maybe it's twins." He realized instantly he'd done a bad and savagely bit his tongue, eyes widening in horror. Oh shi...

"So I look fat to you?!" she freaked, shooting to her feet in outrage.

"No!" he blurted instantly. "You don't look fat, _I_ look fat! I mean, I don't look fat but neither do you! Just pregnant fat! Wait, I didn't mean it like that!"

"Get out!" she shouted, pointing at the door. He didn't even stay to attempt to argue, just bolted out of there like hell itself was on his heels. Which probably wasn't far from the truth at this point. Ugh, he needed to learn to just shut up.

Frozen

To be fair, he should have known better than to think the rest of this pregnancy would go by without event and without argument. He hadn't expected a freak out quite this big, but then _he_ wasn't exactly calm right now either. An attempted assassination of the queen? He expected attempted assassinations on himself, but on _Elsa_? Her people adored her! He'd… needless to stay totally lost it and practically thrown down martial law while she was still recovering from the close brush, totally and completely taking over the throne and not even giving her a second thought. He'd gone Southern Isles on Arendelle and it had paid off because within two days the terrified people were all but throwing the would-be-assassin at his feet. They would have done it sooner too, if they'd been able to find the guy any faster.

His response was to try and slaughter the man without even bothering with a trial in front of all the people there so there would be no further question as to what would happen the next time someone tried to murder his pregnant wife. The minute the perpetrator hit the ground on his knees, Hans's sword had been out and swinging. Elsa, of course, had decided to recover right around that time and had happened upon the scene just in time to throw up an icy shield blocking his blade. Even _it_ had barely managed to stop the sword given the force of his swing. He'd lit it on fire to try and carve through, but Elsa had been relentless and refused to let his weapon advance any further. The man had been seized and dragged into the palace.

He and his wife had blown up at each other, Elsa insisting 'that wasn't how they did things' and that 'there needs to be a proper trial or we become tyrants', then him insisting 'the death penalty is still a thing in Arendelle and attempted assassination is grounds for immediate execution without trial'. To which she'd stated that was not in fact the case in Arendelle. Which led to him stating he was changing the rules, which led to her defiantly declaring she had planned to abolish the death penalty for a while and that now it seemed she had incentive to do so, to which he'd replied it wasn't abolished yet and as long as he was at her side it would never be. She'd then given him a choice between her or the law and he'd sharply replied he chose her continued existence even if it meant losing her, which _totally_ made her fly off the handles unable to decide whether to be furious or moved or devastated or thrilled.

She'd pushed on to petition for the man's life and it had been _his_ turn to fly off the handles, giving her a choice between him and the guy. She said she would have both whether he liked it or not because she had the ultimate say in what happened, and he'd put his foot down and told her that he didn't care _what_ she decided, because whether she pardoned the guy or didn't, the man wasn't going to live to see another week even if he had to hunt him down, kidnap him, and lynch him in the forest, law or no law. She'd brought up his attempted assassination of her on the Fjords, insert total explosion here, and now suddenly they were locked in a battle of fire and ice. The grand hall was totally iced over, locking everyone out of it but them, and it was burning in a blazing inferno at the same time as they freaked on one another looking ready to kill but also refraining from doing so because the baby didn't deserve to be a casualty of their little war, and frankly they didn't want each other dead either.

It wasn't stopping Anna from panicking outside the door and screaming to be let in and threatening him with every threat in the book if he hurt her sister, and then there was Kristoff begging him to calm down because hey, once a villain always a villain and Elsa was totally innocent in this because logic, and it was all basically a hellish nightmare about now. The only ones pleading Elsa's mercy on _him_ were the Duke, surprisingly enough, and Kai. Erik and Francis were kind of going equal blame and calling out to them both. Elsa was looking like a caged animal, eyes frantically darting from Hans to the door and back and forth. Hans only felt his stress rising and was starting to get a bit scared of himself. Finally, he managed to reign in his anger and gasp, letting the flames pour back into his body and giving a cry, falling to the ground on his knees. Elsa was more reluctant to let down the ice, but finally she began to return to a ground zero and the ice began to withdraw as she glared at him darkly. He scowled down at the ground. He knew looking at her would be a bad idea right now, because there were things going through his eyes and expressions that he really, really didn't want her to see because he didn't mean them, in the long run, but really, _really_ wanted to mean them right about now.

So now he was the Wicked Prince, on his knees and at her mercy. She was the Snow Queen, holding his fate in her hands. No Hans or Elsa, just Wicked Prince and Snow Queen. The throne room doors remained iced over, though the rest of it was clear now. He could hear himself growling as he panted for breath, feeling borderline feral right now. She was just ice, expressionless and glaring commandingly down at him... He couldn't say he didn't expect her next order…

Frozen

"Get out," she said. It was simple and direct. Not the 'get out' she'd ordered over dinner weeks ago when he'd slipped up. This was a much, much more serious one.

He darkly laughed, reverting to the man he had once been and not even regretting it. He grinned icily at the ground and rose, smirking coldly at her. "As you command, your majesty," he said borderline mockingly, bowing to her sardonically with arms spread out. "To where will I go?"

"Out of my castle, out of my kingdom, out of this country," she hissed dangerously, scowling. "And don't try to go back to the Isles, Hans. If you do, it'll be an act of war."

"What happened nightingale? Suddenly no more the fair queen of Arendelle who wishes justice for all except for herself?" Hans said sarcastically, stepping back from her with eyes narrowed. "Who advocates for fairness and decency for everyone except when slighted or when mercy is undeserved?"

"Get out," she repeated, teeth gritted; and it was killing her inside to say it, but if he remained... The people were terrified and uncertain, the life of a man who might in fact be innocent and just a sacrifice to appease her husband's wrath hung in the balance, the potency of this argument had her frightened, and her goal right now had to be damage control because the terror her subjects had felt to see the full face of the Southern Isles... It wasn't just for their peace of mind he needed to go... It was for _his_ sake too... She wished it didn't have to be... She didn't want to do this... "Hans Westergaard, you are henceforth banished from Arendelle for however long I deem it necessary. You have an hour to get the things you need together and leave, or rest assured you will pay."

"Hmm. Four or five years too late, my queen," he replied, bowing again. He turned and marched out without looking behind. She glared after him, tears burning her eyes, then fell into her throne and sobbed, covering her face with her hands and shaking her head. Oh gods… What had he done…? What had _she_ done?

 _It's for his own sake... Isn't it...?_

Frozen

He glared in at the cowering assassin shackled to the walls of the cell, staring at him in horror and pleading for his life in tears. His sword was drawn, ready to slit the man's throat or cut off his head. He was seriously considering it. Finally, he scoffed and turned, walking away. He… he owed her that at least… For what had happened between them… And somewhere inside him he knew also that there was a possibility the man had been made a scapegoat and sacrifice. He doubted it, but it was a possibility.

 _And even still his instinct was to just go out, hunt down, and execute any person even relatively suspect in this would-be murder regardless of innocence or guilt..._

He guessed that in that case he couldn't say that what she'd done in exiling him hadn't been for the best... He didn't say goodbye to her. She wouldn't want it anyway and he certainly was in no mental place to desire to do so. He just left without a word, taking Sitron, mounting him, and riding for the train station. He'd decided on England because why not? He'd figure out who to stay with there. He'd received a letter from Charles Dickens not long ago inviting him to visit, so he'd take the man up on that offer. Anyway, maybe being out of Arendelle for a while would be smart…

He reigned in his horse as he neared, looking a bit surprised. There, at the station, were Erik, Francis, and Kristoff. He stared at them. They stared back. "What are you doing here?" he finally asked.

"We're coming with you," Francis replied.

Hans shifted a bit. "Why?" he asked.

"Because the Duke saw we wanted to and gave us the excuse we needed," Erik replied. "The truth of it is, you're a friend and we were concerned for you. The lie we are working with is that you as king-consort must be protected. Our eyes must be upon you always, for your safety."

Hans looked at Kristoff. "And you?" he asked.

"You're my friend," he answered simply. "No lie needed. Also, Anna's kind of ticked at you and I had your back and there was kind of a fight. Figure it's probably a good idea to let her cool down. I mean a trip to wherever you're going is probably a little extreme, but hey, farthest I've been from Arendelle is the Southern Isles. I'm… kind of curious. About where you're headed. I assume Britain? You talked about how you'd gotten a letter from Dickens. Besides that, Jekyll went to England to see Louise and his other friends there, didn't he? I need to talk to him about my little Gerda. She's had a fever that's been pretty persistent and it's really starting to worry me and Anna."

Hans was quiet, visibly touched. "Thank you," he finally found the words to say. "All of you."

"It's our pleasure," Francis said, shrugging a shoulder.

"Come, your highness. Let's away," Erik said, bowing a bit to him. Hans nodded. He'd send a letter to his brothers before boarding to inform them of what was happening, just so they didn't start to get antsy.

Frozen

So here they were on the train, bound for a port that would bring them to a ship that would sail overseas to Britain. Hans couldn't help but reflect on the Knights of the Round Table, both in Avalon and apparently here now too. He had his own little round table going on these days, it seemed. Kristoff, Erik, Francis, Jekyll, Charles, Carl, Harold, Edward, all twelve of his brothers, Prince Eric and Alfred Tennyson if he wanted to drag in his brothers' friends, Utterson who he was probably _going_ to meet if he wanted to add in Jekyll's friends, Robert Stevenson if he wanted to count the kid who had decided to pen-pal him since the Jekyll Hyde incident, Flynn Rider or whatever the heck he was calling himself these days, Kai and the Duke could probably count, then himself. That was twenty-eight right there. Twenty-nine because he'd throw in Vertigo. Why not? And he'd probably end up associating with Aladdin and Mozenrath more in future, and he could count Olaf he assumed, so that was thirty-two. He could throw in his nephews and he was into the forties. Toss the girls into it too, though they would probably prefer their own order he noted to himself - or not, depending - and he was likely pushing the fifties if not into it. Huh. He was popular. Go figure. He'd never honestly expected to be.

He looked at Erik, Francis, and Kristoff. He knew more people than he thought he did. He'd wondered how one-hundred-fifty knights of the Round Table could remember one another like they did; now here he was able to recite off over fifty names off the top of his head like it was a no-brainer. He could put faces to each name without trouble, and he kept in contact with pretty well all of them like it was a breeze. Wow. When you really got to thinking about all the people you knew, you realized you could remember a lot more faces and names than you'd thought you were _capable_ of remembering.

"What's got _you_ smirking?" Francis asked, reading a book but somehow having noticed Hans's distraction and amusement.

"Hmm? Oh, nothing. Just drawing comparisons," Hans replied.

"With who?" Francis asked.

"The Knights of the Round Table," Hans said half-teasingly. Erik, Francis, and Kristoff all looked at him like he'd lost his mind before exchanging looks and blinking at one another blankly. They gave him unimpressed glares. Hans chuckled and went back to looking out the window, loving that he'd gotten them thinking about his words. He saw the pier coming into sight. Soon they'd be bound for Britain. His smile slowly fell and he looked longingly back towards Arendelle before turning away, bowing his head sadly. He missed her… He wished he could go back, apologize, and make this all better, but it was too late for that now, and he had to go… For everyone's sake... He closed his eyes, sighing sadly.

 _I'm so sorry…_


	3. Knights and Princes

Knights and Princes

Franz, sleeping in bed, began to stir. He drew in a deep breath and shifted slightly with a smile. Wait. His smile slowly fell. There was something around him. He looked down and blinked. An arm? What on earth was…? He started, eyes widening as he paled. Oh shi… He yelped, leaping from the bed and turning quickly in horror only to see Dinadan laying there as well! He shouted a curse, noticed his state of dress, and cursed again even louder, seizing a covering and wrapping it around himself. Dinadan, by now, was blearily blinking, slowly waking up. He looked over at Franz, raised an eyebrow, then seemed to realize what had the prince so flustered and panicked. He glanced at himself, figured that waking up in this kind of position wasn't anything new to him, then shrugged and lay his head back down.

Franz gaped at his calmness in disbelief. "Get up!" he shouted angrily. Dinadan opened an eye, giving him an annoyed look, then sighed and sat up, rubbing his eyes with the heel of his palm. And to Franz's horror Dinadan was also in a state of similar dress. Rather undress. "What the hell happened man?!"

Dinadan looked around. "Judging by our surroundings and the situation I'd say a bit of experimenting," he answered, smirking and chuckling. "Given I'm still here and have no feelings of dissatisfaction, I'd say you exceeded expectation."

"Oh my god this can't be happening," Franz said, burying his face in his hands in embarrassment. "I'm courting someone else!"

"There _is_ a possibility nothing happened you know," Dinadan replied, laughing and getting up. Franz cursed and turned away quickly. "I was blackout drunk, you were obviously blackout drunk, so no telling _what_ really happened. Could have just been some light spooning."

"Oh my god!" Franz said. "What was I thinking?!"

"You weren't. That's kind of how people end up in situations like this," Dinadan said, grinning wickedly at him. "I know from experience. If it makes you feel better, I was probably pouring on the flirt. Likely with everyone in that inn. Just happened to get lucky with you first. What can I say? When I get drunk, I get licentious. Even more so than usual."

Franz, cursing under his breath and muttering about bad decisions and getting drunk and stupid choices, quickly started to dress. He paused, hearing his son crying from the next room, and groaned. Just what he needed now. He finished dressing then went into said room. Dinadan dressed and followed, looking at the baby in distaste as Franz picked Recuerda up and began to rock him, softly singing. "It's alright, baby, it's alright," he soothed. "Shh, daddy's here." The baby made little noises, grasping at his father's beard and starting to calm down.

"Never got why people wanted those," Dinadan said with a grimace. "What are they even good for? They poop, they pee, they puke, they eat, they cry."

"They're good for bringing unmatched joy, a sense of fulfilment, a feeling of responsibility and pride, and making you feel love the likes of which will never be matched for the rest of your miserable lonely life. A kind of love you'll apparently never get to understand, given it seems fatherhood is low on your priority list," Franz replied.

"They're mess makers," Dinadan replied, shrugging. "Trust me, I've dealt with plenty of kids in my time. None of them mine, no, but that's beside the point. There was like a whole list of Tots of the Round Table early on before they all grew up, as children are wont to do. Big brothering was tough enough as it was, let alone fathering. I fathered my brothers, big bro'd the children in the Worcestershire Academy dorms, fought and worked alongside a gaggle more who would become Knights of the Round Table, and those three things filled my parenting meter right full. You have _no_ idea the kind of crap I went through with the Brats of Arthur's Court."

"So I assume you don't _dislike_ them then," Franz said.

"No," Dinadan replied, shrugging. "They're okay I guess, but it's not the lifestyle for me."

"If you ever became a father I bet you'd feel different," Franz replied, smirking.

"Maybe, but I'm not at all inclined to find out," Dinadan replied. He sighed, running his fingers through his hair. "Look, I've said it before and I'll say it again: 'God defend me. For the joy of love is too brief; and the sorrow thereof, and what cometh thereof, dureth overlong.'"

Franz started at him, flabbergasted. "That's the most depressing take on love I've ever heard," he finally said in disbelief.

"Yep. And the one time I ignored my own advice and went for something more, it came back and bit me on the backside and just proved it ultimately irrefutably right," Dinadan said.

"No, I'm-I'm pretty sure you just got unlucky," Franz said.

"Hey, you weren't there okay?" Dinadan replied, getting a bit defensive.

"Okay. Sorry," Franz replied, backing off. He probably didn't want to know. In fact he probably wanted to know very little. What he knew of the Knights of the Round Table as was sounded like the tragedy to put all other tragedies ever to shame. Well, a good chunk of them. Silence. "What happened to… her?"

"Yeah. It was a girl," Dinadan said with a sigh. "I lost her. That's all you need to know."

"Death?" Franz asked. Dinadan wasn't inclined to answer, it seemed, suddenly focused intently on the nearby window. Franz let it go. "I… I lost mine too…"

"Mother of the kid?" Dinadan asked.

"Yeah," Franz replied.

Dinadan winced. "Must have been recent then," he said. If the baby was that young, that was.

"No… It wasn't… I lost my baby too… I got him back during our trip to the underworld where we first met all of _you_. It's… complicated," Franz said. "Long story short, Proserpine can play Hades like a fiddle. Woman knows how her husband ticks."

Dinadan was quiet. He should probably stop asking questions now, he figured. "Sorry," he finally said. Franz shrugged.

"Your highness, you have received some letters from your brothers Princes Calcas and Hans," a voice said from outside the room. "Also, the wet nurse is here for Prince Recuerda."

"Bring them all in," Franz replied. The door opened and the servant entered with the wet nurse and the letters. Dinadan immediately lit up and was all over said wet nurse in about two seconds, leaving a vaguely annoyed Franz to take the letters. "Way to make a guy feel cheap," he bit at Dinadan. The servant and wet nurse both gave Franz concerned looks, then Dinadan. Dinadan, flushing a bit, grinned innocently at the wet nurse who raised an eyebrow but let it go. Franz smirked to himself as the servant left without a word just plain not wanting to know. Dinadan continued to make his moves on the wet nurse while Franz scanned the letters. "So, this is why you came," he said after a few minutes of reading.

Dinadan, annoyed the woman wasn't giving him an eyeful of anything while she nursed the baby—she'd pointedly turned her back on him—tensed up and looked over, expression suddenly serious. There was silence as Franz gazed warily at him, now suspicious as to his motives. Dinadan pursed his lips. "Okay. We need to talk," he said.

"Yes, we do," Franz said borderline coldly like he was starting to perceive a potential enemy. "Tell me, if we go to war with the knights of the round table, how will we fare?"

"Depends on if you take a whole army or just you and your brothers," Dinadan replied slightly testily. "I mean, we have a shapeshifter so there's that advantage. Oh, and Kay has a few hidden aces too."

"I'm aware. I've read about Sir Kay often enough to know what he's capable of," Franz said. "Follow. Now." It was obvious it was an order. Dinadan glared a moment but then sighed, relenting and following the agitated prince out and making sure he had his weapons on him just in case. Wouldn't be the first person to try and kill him after an intimate night. Considering anything had happened.

Frozen

Franz sat on his throne, which meant he meant business, and glared at Dinadan. "So, care to tell me exactly which knights you dragged along with you up here?"

"Technically I was one of the ones _dragged_ up," Dinadan answered, playing dumb.

"Don't get cocky," Franz said, scowling. "Just answer the question, Dinadan."

Dinadan sighed. "Okay. With me there are Kay and Hoel, Arthur's foster brother and blood cousin. Another trio came up besides us. We were sent to separate areas just to cover more ground and play it safe. That second trio consisted of the Once-Byzantine Emperor Alexander, the shape-shifter Menw, and King Lot of Lothian and Orkney, Arthur's brother-in-law, who's kind of the defacto leader of our party for this… mission, I'll call it."

"Calcas and Hans ran across them," Franz said. "They were with someone else."

Dinadan glared, eyes narrowed. "Why ask questions you know the answers to?" he asked after a moment.

"I want to hear it from your mouth personally. Corroboration, you know," Franz said.

Dinadan clenched his jaw. "Mordred," he finally said through gritted teeth.

"Why was Mordred making his way to our capital?" Franz asked. Silence. "Answer!" he shouted, punching the arm of his chair.

"It's cute how you think you can intimidate me," Dinadan said in the coldest tone Franz had heard yet. Cold enough to make the hairs on his arm stand on end. "I've dealt with worse and more wicked men than you and your brothers."

"You have no idea what we're capable of. And you don't _want_ to know," Franz replied icily.

Dinadan was quiet. "Maybe," he finally said. He could see how he might be underestimating the princes of the Southern Isles. These weren't generic enemy rulers, these weren't dangerous kings who he knew he was safe from because they were all part of the same order, these weren't wicked knights and men and monarchs they knew the reputations of via word of mouth. These were wildcards, and as far as he could tell they were very, very capable wildcards. Wildcards always, without fail, equalled danger and trouble. He sighed, looking away, then turned back. "He's making his way to your capital because he wants to kill your brother. Hans. His surrogate Arthur. And we came to stop him and try and sway him from that course. Lot has him under control."

"Give me one reason why I shouldn't vote—and Caleb _will_ call a vote—for riding on Lot's little hermitage and killing that boy before he has a chance to grow up and get anywhere near my baby brother," Franz said.

"Simple. If you do, we'll kill you. All of you. Most of you, if Hans doesn't stick his nose where it doesn't belong like the rest of you," Dinadan said as easily as if it were just another day in the life. "We'll handle Mordred. Just leave him to us."

"I'm sure you thought you could handle Mordred when…" Franz began. He yelped and gave a cry as suddenly Dinadan crossed the space between them and pinned him against his throne, holding his sword at the shocked prince's throat with a scowl!

"Be very, very, _very_ careful of your next words," the knight evenly and darkly threatened. "You're a real prize. It would be shame to waste your worth." The guards in the throne room were moving to attack. Dinadan's lack of concern over that fact had Franz more than a little disturbed and he wondered, not for the first time, just how good Arthur's elite had been.

"Halt!" Franz ordered them. "It's okay." They stopped reluctantly.

Dinadan glared at him a moment more before letting him go and backing away. "Maybe I should go," he said.

Franz sighed, looking down a bit ashamedly. "You don't have to go… Listen, I'm sorry but…"

"I know," Dinadan cut off with a sigh. "I'm a big brother too, remember? You just want to protect him."

"I want to make up for all the times I didn't, yes," Franz said, glancing ashamedly away.

Dinadan was quiet. "Lot has a leash on Mordred. For now. Our hope is that if he's isolated from you and your brothers, isolated from the thought of Hans or of vengeance, allowed to grow up in an environment where he can feel safe and loved, he can let it go and live a decent life," Dinadan said.

"How likely do you really think that is?" Franz quietly asked.

Dinadan was quiet. "It isn't," he finally replied. "Likely, that is… Because Mordred is seriously screwed up in the head for more reasons than you know. But if, when he grows, he shows signs of trying to recreate Camlann with your brother, _we'll_ deal with him. We'll hold him back, try to talk him down, try to reason with him."

"And if all of that fails?" Franz asked.

Silence again. "We try not to think about that," he finally answered.

"Because you know what you'll do," Franz quietly said, head bowed.

"Yeah… That job will fall to Lot. We… we tried to talk him out of it, tried to get him to let one of _us_ carry it out because then it wouldn't be so horribly painful. We lied. It would still be horribly painful, especially for whoever did it. And he of course knew we lied, and he said as much and then told us that the one it would be most the painful for was him, but… But he wanted to… He wanted to be there when… when his son died… He wanted to be holding him for his last breath and soothing and comforting him if he happened to be awake or wake up. He-he just…"

"Okay stop," Franz said, closing his eyes and shaking his head quickly. He really, really didn't want to hear. He really, really didn't even want to _picture_ that. Quiet. "It would be easier if you let _us_ kill him instead," he finally said. "Lot could still be there, holding him in his arms as he died, but he wouldn't have to wear that guilt or experience first hand the betrayal Mordred would feel."

"I'll suggest it," Dinadan said, shrugging. "But Lot knows that if _he_ does it, there won't be pain. He won't let there be… If anyone else does it, he's not so sure… He doesn't want Mordred to be in pain…"

"Tell him that emotional pain is almost always far worse and agonizing than physical. And if Mordred wakes up or happens to be awake, emotional pain will be the kind of pain he feels, and it'll _be_ far worse than any physical he could go through," Franz said.

"Yeah… Okay, that might work," Dinadan said, drawing his fingers through his hair again and sighing yet another time. Both seemed to be nervous ticks of his, quirks that tended to come out in deeply emotional, serious, and genuine moments that made him look like a nervous rabbit instead of the laid-back letch he usually presented. Franz almost wondered what the lie was vs what the truth was… Maybe the laid-back persona _used_ to be the truth, but it seemed that over time he had become jaded and that original personality had become the front he put on. Over time, as things had gotten worse, maybe the persona and man he was seeing in front of him now had become the reality…

"You were all wounded and scarred deeply back then, weren't you?" Franz gently murmured.

Dinadan let out a shuddering breath, closing his eyes. "We were ripped apart and put back together so many times over that…" He trailed off and shook his head. "Eventually everything we once were became tattered remnants, shades of a life that didn't even feel like it had ever existed and just… Just one day things were good, they were _so_ good… Then it was all razed to the ground and trampled into dust…"

Franz was quiet, looking down. They, it seemed, had gone the _opposite_ direction of him and his brothers. While they'd gotten better, the Knights had gotten worse. "I'm sorry," he said. Dinadan shrugged. Franz looked up at him again. "You, Kay, and Menw are welcome here. Whenever you'd like. If you want to stay here, I'm okay with that too."

"Maybe. This castle isn't as jarring of a change from our time as I'd thought it would be," Dinadan said. "A lot of it is similar and familiar, in fact." Buildings were still built of stone, some with brick which was a bit jarring and weird—it was a kind of brick _he_ wasn't used to seeing—but not unappealing, and wood. The wood was formed in a weird style that he really didn't like much, it wasn't like the wood he'd known, but they'd been invited to stay in the castle which was pretty well right out of a medieval storybook, so it wouldn't be too crazy of a difference. Right now, though, they'd stick with the authentic dark age ruins. It was a project and a fun one too. "We'll definitely stop by to visit sometimes, though. Especially after _our_ wild fling," Dinadan said, slipping back on the laid-back façade again and fitting in a half-hearted flirt. Franz, though, could see the strain in the man's expression. He nodded in understanding.

"Fare thee well, Sir Dinadan," the prince said with a reassuring and sympathetic smile.

Dinadan nodded and bowed to him. "Fare thee well, Prince Franz," he said. Turning, he left without a word further, Franz watching sadly after him. The prince shook his head. What kind of life had those men lived, he wondered? Near the end, that was. He had no, well few, doubts they'd lived pretty well, relatively well, prior to everything going down the chamber pot. He sighed, leaning back and closing his eyes. Now he just had to wait for Caleb's summons, worry about the vote, and focus on talking his brothers out of riding on the Knights of the Round Table and subsequently getting themselves slaughtered by them.

Remembering the second letter he'd received, the one from Hans, he opened it up to start reading. "Oh hell," he said in exasperation as he did. Leave it to flipping Hans to screw up and get himself exiled.

Frozen

Within a day Caleb had summoned his brothers to his castle to discuss the two new issues they had to deal with. He looked around at his siblings. There was no need for a recap or presentation. "You know why you're here. All in favor of riding on Mordred's hideaway raise your hands," he said bitterly and flatly. Needless to say, the majority was all for it. "Those against?" Caleb asked. Calcas, Franz, and Kelin-Sel were the only ones raising their hands. "You three have a chance to sway us," Caleb said.

The trio exchanged grimaces and looked back. "If we ride on them, they'll all be waiting for us," Franz said.

"How many are there?" Caleb asked.

"Seven if we count the child," Franz said.

"We outmatch them two to one _not_ counting the little prick," Jurgen said.

"It's going to take a lot more than two to one odds for us to have a hope of coming out on top!" Kelin-Sel argued. "These aren't just generic soldiers and these aren't your typical average knights. They're the Knights of the Round Table in the flesh! These are King Arthur's elite of the elite and they've had over a thousand years of practice, considering they kept up their training in Avalon which they probably did. Caleb, if we ride on them… We'll all end up dead!"

"So we take the army," Runo, Duach, said. "Six men and a little boy won't stand against an army.

"Two of those six were among the enchanted knights, and their powers weren't anything to scoff at!" Kelin-Sel argued. "And it's believed Mordred took after his aunt Morgan le Fay."

"They'll still fall," Runo said.

"The knights have a handle on that boy, Caleb," Calcas argued. "They don't mean us harm if we don't mean them harm! Give them a chance at least. Maybe they _can_ stop Mordred. Just… just talk to them, okay? If you need to see for yourself what's happening, talk to them. We don't always have to jump straight to war. Least of all against a force we might not be able to beat! For all we know they have a means of getting the rest of them up here too, and if they manage _that_ , it's possible not even our army will be able to stand. Impossible if they bring their own generic one _with_ them."

Caleb was quiet, drumming his fingers and taking in the words. The others were quiet, looking conflicted. "If I don't like what I hear, you know what has to happen," the king finally said.

"Fair enough," Calcas said. "I can play ambassador and deliver whatever message you want sent to Lot."

"Come on him by surprise when there's only three. Four counting the boy," Rudi, Rhun, said.

"No. It could be considered an act of hostility. If we want their trust, we need to be open with them," Justic quickly said. "Lot needs to be given the chance to act as _he'd_ like to act. If he feels threatened enough that he sends for the others, that's his business and we should respect that. He's protecting his child."

"Adopted," Iscawin put in flatly.

"His child," Justic repeated, frowning at Iscawin. Iscawin winced and backed down.

"Very well," Caleb relented. "I'll pen a letter, Calcas will deliver it to Lot, and come the day after tomorrow we'll be riding through the pass that leads us to them." The others agreed. They didn't address Hans at all. Not right now at least. They were still all trying to figure out what should and shouldn't be done regarding _that_ delicate situation. The brothers parted ways and Calcas left to bring Caleb's letter to Lot.

Frozen

Lot read the letter with pursed lips, glaring at it unimpressed. Calcas felt like he was in very, very hostile territory. He'd come alone. Either that would prove to be his saving grace or it would cost him big time. "Give me a reason I shouldn't send your head back to your brother as a reply," Lot bitterly said.

"Act of war. Caleb's not coming here with war in mind," Calcas said. "Hurt me, that'll change quicker than you'll be able to call in the cavalry."

Lot shook his head. "Why is he coming?" he demanded.

"Because he's worried about his brother and wants to be personally reassured you have this under control better than you did back…" Calcas began. He cut off immediately when Alisander drew his sword without a word and held it threateningly at his throat, glaring daggers.

Lot looked like he was half tempted to tell Alexander to slit his throat, but he refrained. "Tell your brother we'll meet him," Lot said slightly bitterly. He looked to Menw. "Fly to them with the news," he said. Menw nodded, shifted into a bird, and flew out the window. Lot turned back to Calcas. "What was his original intent?" he asked.

"To ride with intent to kill," Calcas admitted. He was playing dangerously with the trust angle, but he was hoping for the best.

"What swayed him?" Lot asked.

"Common sense and general self-preservation," Calcas flatly replied. "We don't know what you're capable of or who we'd end up ultimately fighting if we rode against you in war."

"Smart men," Lot said dryly. He sighed. "Leave in peace, Prince Calcas. We'll see you on the morrow." Calcas bowed to him and turned, leaving. He was more than a little relieved he'd got out of there unscathed. Quickly he rode away.

Frozen

The next day the twelve brothers rode towards the pass that would bring them to the hermitage. "What are we going to do about the Hans and Elsa thing?" Iscawin asked as they went, trying to distract from the sense of danger they were all feeling.

"It's their business. Let them work it out for themselves," Connyn replied.

"Wouldn't hurt to check on how Hans is doing though. This can't be easy on him," Coth remarked. "Kind of concerned about possible regression."

"I'm in favor of a trip to Britain," Lars said. "Perhaps there we'll be able to pick up a little more insight on these Knights of the Round Table in our midst."

"Knowledge is power and all that," Rudi agreed, adjusting his glasses. Lars nodded and looked ahead again.

Soon they emerged from the pass onto the field. The six Knights of the Round Table were already waiting for them looking wary. They approached. "You brought weapons," Lot remarked when they were still at a fair distance.

"There was no discussion about whether or not to," Caleb replied, stopping his horse and raising his hand to halt his brothers so they didn't appear a threat. "You brought your own as well. Let it be a sign of trust between us rather than a sign of animosity."

Lot was quiet, glaring. "As you say," he finally relented. Caleb nodded and approached once more with his siblings. They reigned in their horses and dismounted. Caleb approached Lot, who moved to meet him coldly.

"Where's the child?" Caleb asked, taking the tentatively offered hand and clasping it before releasing it again.

"Mordred isn't your concern," Lot replied.

"Sign of trust, King Lot. Sign of trust," Caleb said.

"There's trusting and there's being stupid," Lot replied. "But if you must know then so be it. He's napping. I made sure he would be asleep for this. He tends to… unintentionally complicate things."

"And often intentionally too," Kay flatly added, earning him a scowl from Lot.

Lot turned back to Caleb. "You came to talk. So, let's talk."

"I want your assurance that boy will not be the cause of my baby brother's death," Caleb said simply and flatly. "And I want to be convinced of it. Words are empty."

"Words are all I can offer," Lot replied. "If you want brutal honesty, I won't claim there'll be a guarantee your brother will be spared his wrath. I _can_ guarantee that if it comes down to it, we'll stop him. By any means necessary."

"There are too many intangibles for you to guarantee any such thing," Rudi said.

"Hi Lucan," Kay bit. Rudi started and frowned, unimpressed. Then again, he was being compared to a Knight of the Round Table so hey, that was pretty good.

"We'll stop him," Lot repeated. "Somehow, someway, we'll stop him."

"That boy is a threat to us," Runo said.

"He's a neutralized threat," Alisander said. "We'll keep him away from your brother, we promise. Unless something goes horribly, horribly wrong and we all end up dead by some strain of misfortune or other, your brother will be safe."

"The wrong enemies may catch wind of him and find him," Caleb said. "We have many of those… Among them a wicked fae and a cursed, massive, unstoppable bear with the mind of a human. Said bear won't die."

The knights stared at them like they were insane. "Who the hell did _you_ pee off?" Dinadan finally said.

"It's a long, long story," Franz replied, grimacing.

"We'll keep them from him," Lot said. "We've faced worse." The bear was an anomaly, yes, but they'd faced those before too.

"Who'll keep _him_ from _them_?" Iscawin asked.

Lot was quiet, looking back towards the tower for the first time unable to answer. Ideally he and his fellow knights would. History dictated that didn't always work as you wanted it to, though. They could protect Mordred from outside forces, but they couldn't protect him from what was going on inside of him. Caleb was quiet. "We haven't come to take your son. We're willing to give you a chance. We're willing to _help_ you where we can, but let's talk ideals. The reality is you're too close for comfort. _Much_ too close. Ideally you take your men, you take your son, and you leave. You go far, far, far away from Denmark and Norway and you never let him look back and in fact fill his head with lies as to where the Southern Isles and Arendelle are. Now of course it may be too much to expect that you would…"

"Your ideal matches mine. So let's work together to make it happen," Lot cut off.

Caleb was quiet. "What's your ideal?" he finally asked.

"My ideal wold be to go home… Back to my kingdom, back to my castle, back to my own bed in my own time when everything was still good, and it wasn't too late!" Lot said, sounding despairing and longing. Homesickness. The others looked away, bowing their heads painfully, and the twelve brothers winced. These men missed home… "I know you can't give me that," Lot finally continued. "But maybe…"

"We're going to Britain. Our youngest brother is there, visiting friends. There was an… incident between him and his wife," Runo said.

"We witnessed plenty of _those_ ," Hoel remarked, grimacing.

"Yeah. It wasn't pretty. So, he's staying there for a while until things cool down. We're going to see if he's alright. We can get you there. It's not far enough away for our ideal, but it's a compromise we can live with," Justic said. "Orkney still exists. Not sure about Lothian. We can't give you Camelot. Until meeting you in Avalon we thought it was just a myth. It's widely regarded as such and despite widespread speculation and claims, no one's been able to definitively find it or pinpoint its location. Which means that either it's become an unrecognizable ruin people walk over daily without realizing where they are, or it's been hidden exceedingly well from us. We can't get you home, but we can get you back to where home once was." The knights were silent. "Alright," Lot finally agreed. "So be it." The others looked a little hopeful and longing too, so the compromise apparently appealed to them as well. They really missed the British Isles, didn't they? Plan settled, the two groups separated. The news probably wouldn't go over well with Mordred, whose ultimate goal was Hans—being brought to almost the northernmost tip of what was once Brittania would be extraordinarily counterproductive to that goal—but he'd ultimately change his tune when he saw it again. At least Lot hoped...


	4. In the Shadow of Camelot

In the Shadow of Camelot

(A/N: This chapter was kind of born out of speculation of what it would be like to find a perfectly preserved medieval city and be the first to traverse it in centuries. Also from speculation about how it would feel if the people who once lived there could come back to it. Kind of like going back to your hometown that's become a ghost town over the years. The poem quoted in this chapter is 'The Lady of Shallot' by Alfred Tennyson, but not the whole thing. I took mainly the parts that describe Camelot without only a couple exceptions, and it doesn't feel like it has closure becaue it's not the whole poem, but the whole  
poem is incredibly long and would take up too much space, so I kind of let it slip to the wayside. Enjoy.)

Hans, Kristoff, Erik, and Francis stepped off the boat onto the large docks. Erik, Francis, and Kristoff looked utterly amazed, never having seen this place before. Hans looked around for Duke Carl Alexander, who was staying in Britain at a vacation home. He'd informed his friend of their immanent arrival and Carl had determined to meet them personally. It didn't take long to spot him when he was sitting in probably one of the most splendid carriages Hans had ever seen. The man, or someone in his household, had expensive tastes. "Come on, this way," he said to his three friends, making his way towards the carriage.

"We're going in _that_?!" Kristoff exclaimed, flabbergasted.

"Royalty, peasant. Royalty," Hans replied, smirking. Kristoff frowned at the peasant remark but let it go.

Carl, waiting inside the carriage, stepped out and gave Kristoff an incredulous once-over. "We're bringing _that_?" he dryly asked.

"Go screw yourself!" Kristoff protested.

"I have people to do that for me," Carl replied, smirking teasingly. Kristoff blinked then gave an unimpressed frown before rolling his eyes.

"He takes getting used to," Hans brushed off. He entered the carriage followed by the Duke, then Erik and Francis, then Kristoff.

"So, girl troubles was it?" Carl asked.

Hans grimaced. "Let's not talk about it," he replied. Carl smirked. "Straight to Dickens' residence or lunch first?"

"Lunch with who?" Hans asked.

"Everyone," Carl replied.

"Charles, don't tell me you arranged a shindig," Hans said, grimacing.

"Of course I did," he replied. "Why not? Gives you a chance to rant about your marital problems with the boys. I'm sure you've had quite enough of feminine companionship for a while."

"Let's not talk about it," he repeated with a groan, blushing. "By everyone you mean…?"

"Myself, Edvard, Harald, Jekyll, Jekyll's friend Gabriel John Utterson, and if you're really dying to know, Dickens will actually be there as well. You can go home with him afterwards," Carl said. He looked over at the other three. "But he won't have room for all of you. Hmm… I'll tell you what, I'll put you up in my manor."

"Your hospitality is appreciated," Francis said.

Carl nodded and turned to Hans. "They're eager to see you, your highness," he said, smiling.

"No using my real title in front of Dickens, okay?" Hans said a bit nervously.

"Yes, yes, I caught on fast how _he_ feels about royalty so don't worry about it," Carl said. "He won't hear it from me."

"He doesn't know you're royalty? You know, the longer you keep secrets like that the more damaging it's gonna be to the friendship when he finally finds out. Which he will. They always do," Kristoff said.

"I know, I know, just… I'm working up to it, okay?" Hans mumbled, a bit embarrassed.

Carl looked out the window. "Here it is," he said with a smile as they neared a large restaurant. The carriage pulled to a stop and the party stepped out. "Brace yourselves, gents. This is going to be damn entertaining." The group approached the doors and stepped into a large and elaborately decorated room with stairs leading upwards. Their coats and hats were taken and they walked up the steps before entering into the dining area. Kristoff's mouth dropped. Even Erik and Francis looked a little shocked and unsure what to say about this. Hans seemed totally at ease and so did Carl. "There they are, boys," Carl said, pointing out a table around which were gathered their party minus Jekyll and Utterson it seemed. Carl whistled and all sorts of eyes looked over, but it was their party who reacted.

"Hans!" Harald exclaimed excitedly, leaping up with a wide grin beaming at the older man. He ran towards him and embraced him tightly before kissing him on the cheek. Erik and Francis gave Hans incredulous looks, Erik raising his eyebrow. Hans winced and turned attention back to Harald. "Gods I've missed you," the dancer said, pulling away but still holding his arms.

"I've missed you too," Hans replied, smiling fondly.

"Come, all of you. Let's sit down," Harald said, taking Hans' arm and pulling him along. Erik, Francis, and Kristoff exchanged looks before following.

"Mr. Hans Andersen! It's been too long," Charles Dickens greeted, grinning at his friend and going to Hans, clapping him on the shoulders. "I was worried we'd never meet again say for through letter, the rate things were going."

"Charles, it's great to see you," Hans said, grinning.

"Sit, my friend, there's so much to discuss! Tell me of your newest stories and I'll tell you of my book," Dickens said.

"Save it for home, Charles," Hans replied, laughing. "Then we can talk one another's ears off. Right now, though, there are others to entertain as well."

"Fine," Charles said with a huff, sitting down.

"Oh come off it, Charles. Relax," Carl said. Charles huffed at him—nobility and all, and he low-key resented they shared a first name though 'Charles' wasn't exactly uncommon—but relented.

Frozen

It wasn't long before they were all laughing and joking together, a veritable smorgasbord set out before them. Two of everything on the menu. One drink of every type on the menu per person. Needless to say, they'd probably all be drunk out of their heads by the time the night was over. Around the sixth drink—the drinks reserved for Jekyll and Utterson were still untouched—the missing two members of their party sauntered in. Hans saw them first. "Henry, Henry's friend, there you two are! We had begun to think you were dead on the side of the road somewhere."

"Gabriel Utterson. My name is Gabriel Utterson," Utterson flatly replied.

Jekyll looked distastefully at the spectacle and gave Carl a look. "What?" Carl said. "We're just having a little fun! Come Henry, drink yourself silly with us."

"Unless you're meeting my sister after. In which case I'll gladly drink your portion," Edvard said, smirking devilishly.

"Really now, getting the poor man drunk after a falling out with his wife? It didn't occur to you that might be a bad idea?" Jekyll said, sitting next to Hans. He looked at his patient. "Do pace yourself, Hans. You're not in a mental state where drinking is a good idea."

"Oh lighten up, Henry, and drink," Hans said, sliding him a drink. Jekyll frowned, rolled his eyes, and sniffed distastefully at the drink. He'd never been large on alcohol.

"Bottoms up," he heard Utterson say. He turned in time to see his friend and lawyer toss back a whole drink. A good number of the others cheered and Utterson downed another. Jekyll looked vaguely disgusted then sighed, sipping at his drink. Someone ought to keep their common sense around here, he thought. He had a reputation to uphold besides. He caught sight of Harald almost passed out, laying on the table. Apparently drinking wasn't his game. Jekyll frowned. "Who gave the child alcohol?" he demanded.

"'M, in my twen'ies," Harald mumbled.

"You're cut off," Jekyll said in slight concern. If the boy was this bad now, if he tried finishing the rest of his drinks he could very well end up with alcohol poisoning and that was something Jekyll really wasn't in the humor to deal with. There were never guarantees with alcohol poisoning. He'd learned that fast and hard. The others booed him. Jekyll rolled his eyes hopelessly and went back to his drink.

Frozen

Hours later, when they'd finally been kicked out because closing time, most of them couldn't even walk straight. Jekyll had to carry poor Harald, who was clinging to him and whimpering. The doctor sighed. He should probably bring the dancer to his home and observe him to make sure he'd be alright. "Tomorrow a night on the town again, all of us," Carl drunkenly said while laughing.

"As long as there'll be less alcohol," Jekyll said. Carl blew in his face and Jekyll grimaced, looking away in disgust.

"Fine, no alohol. Albahol. Alcahole," a giggly Edvard tried to slur out. "Jus' night with the-the boys."

"Prostitutes for the recently expelled husband," Carl joked, nudging Hans.

"Bite me," Hans said.

"Can I?" Harald asked hopefully.

"He's mine tonight," Dickens snickered.

"Screw you all," Hans said.

"Meow. The kitty has teeth. And claws," Erik heckled, poking Hans.

"You're makin' 'im zound so much more 'pealing," Harald said with a groan.

"At least Hans has semi kept his senses. And Francis," Jekyll said with a sigh. Utterson was plastered and singing to himself quietly now. In the restaurant said singing had been raucous.

"Learned from Franz. Family has good alcohol tolerance," Hans said. He froze, wavering and almost falling, just reaching out in time to balance himself on Erik. Which backfired because Erik stumbled and fell with Hans and the two burst into laughter laying on one another before Kristoff pulled Hans up, laughing as well. Francis and Carl helped up Erik.

"Tomorrow then, men," Charles said, staggering towards a carriage. "Come on, Hans, let's go!" Hans followed him giggling. The others said their goodbyes. Kristoff, Erik, and Francis joined Carl in his carriage, Jekyll and Utterson took Harald into theirs, the dancer just newly passed out, Edvard got into another, and they all went their separate ways.

"Afraid the book talk will have to wait for tomorrow, Charles. I'm exhausted," Hans said.

"Agreed," Charles said. The two barely made it into the house before staggering to their rooms and collapsing onto the beds.

Frozen

The flagship of the Southern Isles sailed towards the distant coast of Britain. The seven knights, upon seeing it, had made their way to the bow and hadn't moved from it since, eyes fixed on the distant shore. Connyn approached them tentatively and looked towards it too before turning to them. "Cornwall," Lot murmured, holding Mordred in his arms. The little boy was staring in solemn silence, grief and regret reflected briefly in his eyes before he hid it.

"A number of us came from there," Hoel added quietly. "Mark was its king. One of them. The grandest one."

"The one who forced himself on his niece and killed her when she produced his son? The one who murdered his brother and later murdered Tristan?" Rudi incredulously asked.

"Those stores are lies!" Hoel snapped sharper than he'd intended, casting a fiery, scathing gaze and scowl at Rudi. Rudi jumped in surprise, regretting his remarks instantly. Hoel winced. "I'm sorry," the knight said with a frustrated sigh, looking away and leaning on the ship's railing. "I didn't mean... It's just hard to hear things like that... Mark was a good man, not at all like what you've heard."

Rudi nodded in understanding, squeezing Hoel's shoulder in what he hoped was a reassuring and sympathetic gesture. "The ones I read were later works anyway," he said gently. Earlier ones had probably gotten it a little more right, if Hoel's reaction was anything to go by.

Connyn looked towards Britain's shores again once he was sure Rudi wasn't going to get attacked for his words. "We'll be sailing up the coastline," he said.

They were quiet. Soon, though, Lot looked at him. "Search the coast, and where you see two waterfalls cascading into the ocean, that is where Camelot was… But I don't believe you'll see them… They would have been hidden from sight long ago."

Connyn looked curiously towards the shoreline. "We'll watch for them," he finally said before retreating to his brothers along with Rudi to give them this news.

"Two waterfalls cascading into the ocean? I've never seen such a thing along Britain's shores when I've been here before," Jurgen Meilic murmured. Of course he hadn't sailed the _entire_ coastline, but still.

"Maybe you weren't meant to see and so you didn't," Coth remarked. "If Camelot's been hidden or barred from even them, there's probably a reason for it."

"Perhaps with _them_ aboard now, _we'll_ see where it once stood too," Justic murmured, eyes wide in excitement as he scanned the coastline for these two waterfalls…

Frozen

Hours passed. Time, though, soon found them all staring and gaping over the side of the ship towards two waterfalls cascading into the ocean… Whatever stood above them was shrouded in forest, hidden from view by thick flora. The princes looked towards the knights solemnly. The knights stared. "If you want us to weigh anchor and go ashore…" Jurgen began. He trailed off. He had to confess, he'd love to see the place. Or what was left of it. He just wasn't sure if _they_ would. The knights were quiet.

"Majesties? Sirs?" Justic prompted gently.

Silence. "Papa? I want to go home…" Mordred quietly said after a moment.

"You can," Caleb said to them all. Goodness knew each one of them had probably been thinking it.

There was a long silence. "What was once our home was lost long ago," Lot finally replied.

"What it is now may still be," Caleb pointed out. "We're right here. You can almost touch it. It's only a short skiff ride away. All you must do is say the word. You might not get another chance..." To say goodbye to it, he inwardly added, but he didn't voice the thought lest it upset them more. But it had revealed itself for some reason here and  
now, and he felt like it was just for them. It might not give them another opportunity if they rejected this one.

It was Kay that acted first. He turned to Menw. "Find where the port once was. Gods be willing, you reach it. And if you can, then it means the powers that be have granted us that small grace and honor. To see it as it is now. Or at least part of it," he said.

Menw was silent. Finally he stood on the ship's rail and leapt overboard, taking on the form of a seal and swimming towards where the port had once stood. Lars started, eyes widening in shock. The shapeshifter? Menw was the shape shifter! A shape shifter like him! His mouth dropped in disbelief and he willed back the million questions suddenly swimming in his head. If Menw was a shape shifter then maybe… maybe he could help him improve in his _own_ abilities. Mozenrath could cover most everything else in his tutelage, but not the shape shifting. He may need to approach the knight later about it.

Swimming towards a mess of thick briars that apparently blocked something off. Menw surfaced, examining them, and began to swim around before disappearing. After some minutes, they heard him whistle, and the knights drew in shaking breaths. They could reach it… But they hesitated, torn in their next actions. The princes weren't so uncertain. "Lower the anchor and ready the skiffs!" Jurgen shouted to the sailors. They were quick to obey.

Frozen

Mist had descended rapidly soon after Menw's whistle. Perhaps as soon as he'd set foot on land. Needless to say, excitement had turned to something much more somber. At least for the knights. Not so much the princes. Three skiffs put to shore, six men to each not counting Mordred. Menw waited for them they knew. The princes believed he was probably agitated and impatient to move onward. The knights knew better. To the royals of the Southern Isles, this was an adventure, the discovering of history, ancient and unspoiled lands! …To them it was a wake… Just instead of a human corpse, it would be a shell of the land they had once called home…

The Knights led the way towards the briareid cove, the princes following them. As they neared the overgrowth, it almost seemed to part for them to pass. They sailed through them a little way, but soon, with a final part, the briars opened. The lips of the princes of the Southern Isles slowly parted in awe. There ahead of them was a large port, ancient looking and weathered. Wood that should have rotted away to nothing long ago but hadn't. Bound to it were ships that seemed to have floated from the pages of history books, decrepit with sails a ruin—almost ghost ship like in appearance—but still holding on. Still floating as if waiting for those who had once manned them to return…

 _Impossibility made possible, by a means the royal family wasn't sure they wanted to know of…_

Morded gave a dismayed little sound, small hands wrapping around his adoptive father's sleeves. The other six were silent, staring. Menw stood on the docks with back turned, staring up at the largest ship there. It was massive and beautiful and impossibly splendid… Unmatched by even the most intricate and unique of the ships of the Southern Isles. Tears burned in Menw's eyes as he gazed.

"The Prydwen," Lars realized with eyes like saucers, hardly even able to believe it was there and that he was laying eyes on it. The knights pulled into the dock first. Slowly, tentatively, they slipped from the skiff, tying it up, and joined Menw in staring at the living memory.

"It's still here," Hoel whispered, approaching it and placing his hands against the boards, feeling along them like he couldn't quite believe this wasn't a dream or illusion. He let out a shaking breath, resting his forehead against it and feeling tears pricking his eyes. The princes of the Southern Isles docked and slipped onto the pier, giving the knights a respectful distance. It was almost like the group had forgotten they were there. The princes turned, looking toward a path crawling up a steep cliffside, winding alongside trickling falls and the few trees that had managed to grow on the rocks. The pathway was flanked by dark age buildings and warehouses, but only for a little way.

As they stared, the knights walked by them, so silent they jumped and for a moment almost believed these men were ghosts, which of course they weren't. The knights began to walk up the path. The princes followed quietly, staring in wonder and awe at all that was here. It almost felt like they were walking through a dreamscape, it was so surreal. Crates and barrels still stood waiting to be stored away.

"How could they be this remarkably preserved after so long? And remain undiscovered?" Rudi mused, looking all around in wonder.

"Not through mortal means, _that's_ for sure," Runo replied, slightly uneasy but also marvelling.

The path began to widen out as they neared the top. No sooner had they reached the cliff summit when it opened wide onto endless fields stretching acres that once, long ago, would have would have been beautiful, lovingly tended by farmers and the like.

All was overgrown now…

And up ahead the princes gaped at a long, large wall stretching out, surrounding what had to have once been a city… And in the distance they saw the looming outline of a large, magnificent castle unlike any castle they had ever seen before in all their lives…

Frozen

"I can't believe it… I can't believe we're actually _here_ …" Coth said in awed wonder. The knights were quiet, staring. Coth looked over at them. "Well? What are we waiting for?" Silence met the question. He frowned in concern at them. "Well?" he repeated again. Finally, Alexander made the first move to approach, walking down the ancient, overgrown once-road towards the wall. The others were still, but soon followed him. The princes stayed put as they watched after them, shifting a little uncomfortably. "Did I say something wrong?" Coth asked.

"They may not want to see," Rhun murmured to his little brother.

Coth looked confused. "Why?" Connyn asked, voicing his brother's confusion.

"All is lost that once was theirs, little brother. To us this is the discovery of a lifetime! …But to them it is a wake…" Caleb stated solemnly.

"Huh?" Coth asked.

"Once upon a time you would have heard the voices of farmers calling out or cheering to see them, of cattle and livestock baying and bleating. Reapers would have once been reaping, men planting, children playing… Once upon a time you would have heard the bustle of a city peerless of all Britain, people laughing and singing or brawling or drinking. You would have seen royal carriages making their way up towards the palace, perhaps crowds of citizens following and cheering… It would have been alive… And now it isn't… Dead. Just as _they_ are. Or should be," Rudi replied.

" _On either side of the river lie,_

 _long fields of barley and of rye,_

 _That clothe the wold and meet the sky,_

 _and through the fields the road runs by,_

 _To many towered Camelot…_ " Lars sang softly. The others looked at him.

 _"_ _And up and down the people go,_

 _Gazing where the lilies blow,_

 _Round an island there below,_

 _The Island of Shallot..."_ he continued, starting to follow the knights who had slowed down now to listen to this sung poem. They felt their hearts twist inside of them with longing.

It was then that Sir Kay of all men picked up the tune:

 _"Willows whiten aspens quiver,_

 _Little breezes dusk and shiver,_

 _Through the wave that runs forever,_

 _By the island in the river,_

 _Flowing down to Camelot..._

 _By the margin willow veiled,_

 _Slid the heavy barges trailed,_

 _By slow horses and unhailed;_

 _The shallop flitteth silken sailed,_

 _Skimming down to Camelot..."_

They spoke from memory, the princes sensed. Not from having read the actual poem, but from their own memory. Here King Alisander continued for Kay:

 _"Only reapers reaping early,_

 _In among the bearded barley,_

 _Hear a song that echoes cheerily,_

 _From the river winding clearly,_

 _Down to towered Camelot._

 _And by the moon the reaper weary,_

 _Piling sheaves in uplands airy,_

 _Listening whispers, ''Tis the fairy,_

 _The Lady of Shallot'"_

Now sang Sir Hoel, drawing his hand wistfully and longingly along the walls of a nearby shop as they passed the ancient walls and entered the city:

 _"And moving through a mirror clear,_

 _That hangs before her all the year;_

 _Shadows of the world appear…_

 _There she sees the highway near,_

 _Winding down to Camelot..."_

He had almost whispered the words 'Shadows of the world'. Really it must be how they were all feeling at this very moment, walking through shadows of a world that had once been; a world they'd known and loved and longed for still. He couldn't bring himself to sing two verses, but he didn't need to. King Lot took up the mantle and continued:

 _"_ _There the river eddy whirls,_

 _And there the surly village-churls,_

 _And the red cloaks of market girls,_

 _Pass onward from Shalott._

 _Sometimes a troop of damsels glad,_

 _And abbot on an ambling pad,_

 _Sometimes a curly shepherd-lad,_

 _Or long haired page in crimson clad,_

 _Goes by to towered Camelot…"_

It was Sir Menw's turn to carry the tune now:

 _"_ _And sometimes through the mirror blue,_

 _The knights come riding two and two,_

 _She hath no loyal knight and true,_

 _The Lady of Shallot._

 _"_ _But in her web she still delights,_

 _To weave the mirror's magic sights,_

 _For often through the silent nights,_

 _A funeral with plumes and with lights,_

 _And music went to Camelot,"_ he sang softly, sounding like he was about to break down at his two verses. Gods only knew how often they'd watched such funerals that were for even their own friends… Sir Dinadan spelled him from that point:

 _"_ _Or when the moon was overhead,_

 _Came two young lovers lately wed,_

 _'_ _I am half sick of shadows,' said,_

 _The Lady of Shallot..._

 _Their gemmy bridles glittered free,_

 _Like to some branch of stars we see,_

 _Hung in the golden Galaxy,_

 _The bridle bells rang merrily,_

 _As they rode down to Camelot."_

For him now sang finally Sir Mordred, his voice soft and with a measure of grief and guilt:

 _"Often through the purple night,_

 _Below the starry clusters bright,_

 _Some bearded meteor trailing light,_

 _Moves over still Shalott…_

 _In the stormy east wind straining,_

 _The pale yellow woods were waning,_

 _The broad stream in his banks complaining,_

 _Heavily the low sky raining,_

 _Over towered Camelot..."_

Frozen

They passed through the silent streets, long ago deadened of any activity; the shops, long abandoned, standing as if the next day they would open once again with even ancient wares spotted, every so often through the windows thick with dust. "It was beautiful," Caleb remarked in a murmur to them. Tears threatened the eyes of some of the Knights almost immediately at the words, while others let out shaking and pained breaths, nodding their thanks where they couldn't find the words to speak. Finally, they reached the palace courtyard, moving into the overgrown remnant and looking up at the great castle looming there before them. Even age and ruin couldn't hide its beauty. As lovely in ruin as it had been while tended… Perhaps lovelier still with time…

It was Lot who approached first, going toward the ancient doorway unused for millennia. He pushed it open carefully. It parted with a loud and eerie creak. He peered into the dark halls. Sunbeams spilled through ancient windows and new openings and cracks in the aged stone. Cobwebs and spiderwebs hung all around glistening with dew. Tears pricked all their eyes now… And at this point the eyes of even some of the princes…

"It was _so_ beautiful," Iscawin whispered softly, looking around. Ruin and web couldn't hide that. "It's beautiful still," he amended. Two grand staircases stretched upwards to a balcony above the entrance hall of marble and stone.

Caleb looked at the knights. "Will you go farther in?" he asked in a murmur.

Silence. "No," Lot finally answered for them all. "If you wish, you may look around. But touch nothing and take nothing… If only out of respect for us… We can't see it anymore… Not like this… Not as just a remnant of what we once were…" The princes nodded assent but they didn't leave to explore. They didn't feel like that was their right. Or would ever be. So they retreated silently outside, leaving the seven ancient legends to remain gazing numbly up at the large central window above the balcony between the staircases. A stain-glass mural of the Knights of the Round Table and Arthur…

 _In London_

Hans woke with a groan and a headache. He cursed under his breath, burying his face in the pillow and damning the light. He damned himself more for letting himself be drawn into the stupid behavior of his friends and their drinking. He didn't even _like_ to drink! Dammit. He cursed himself again then reluctantly and slowly started to sit up, grimacing and holding a hand to his head. Yet again he cursed. He took a deep breath then stood up and staggered. A wave of nausea hit him, but he willed it down and stumbled into the guest bathroom to wash his face in the basin and rinse out his mouth that felt disgusting and cottony. Once he finished, he looked at his reflection, grimaced, and set to making himself presentable to Charles' family. The man had mentioned a wife and children, he knew, though he was unsure of how many. Wow, the man was his junior and _already_ had a gaggle of little ones. Goodness knew when _he'd_ started.

As soon as he finished making himself presentable, he made his way out of his room to find Charles and family. He came out into the kitchen and froze on seeing his friend wincing as he got chewed out by his obviously furious wife. Hans stood in place awkwardly, waiting for the argument to finish. "You were out getting drunk while your children and I were left here fretting about whether you would even come home or not! Who influenced you to go to a damn pub, hmm? Who?!" she demanded.

"I went myself, woman!" Charles defended. "And of course I would have come back! Why on earth would you think I'd ever leave?!"

"If you'd been paying attention to the papers you'd know there's a killer somewhere out there," she all but sneered. "You could have been dead in a ditch somewhere and we might never have known!"

"I wasn't alone!" he defended. "I came back with a friend. The one I told you about."

"The author?" a girl's voice asked a bit excitedly. Hans glanced over and spotted a young girl coming into the kitchen. It was hard to tell her age.

"Yes, my dear. The writer," Charles replied, relieved for the distraction. "Hans Christian Andersen in the flesh."

"Who probably encouraged you!" his wife snapped.

"I actually didn't even know we were going to drink," Hans spoke up. All eyes turned quickly to him. The girl almost squealed, eyes lighting up brightly. "Miss and Mrs. Dickens," Hans greeted the two girls cordially, smiling and bowing to them.

Mrs. Dickens blinked then looked at her husband, then to a picture on the back of a book Hans had written, then to Hans, then to her husband again. "That's not him," she said. This stranger was decidedly _not_ the man in the pictures.

"It is. The picture was meant to hide his identity," Charles said.

Mrs. Dickens looked at Hans again, then the picture, then at Hans. It seemed the photos were highly misleading. She would have said outright falsified, except she did see _some_ of the look in this young man before them now. "Huh…" she said, not quite able to find her words. Which was understandable given the jarring difference in appearances, Hans figured.

"Apologies for interrupting," Hans said.

Charles looked at his stunned wife and star-stuck daughter, then turned to Hans. "Mr. Andersen, good morning," he greeted, visibly relieved.

"Morning Charles," Hans replied. "No need for formality between you and I."

"Right. Hans, please, sit down," Charles said, gesturing to a seat. Hans smiled and bowed his head to the man, going to the seat and sitting. Charles followed suite, then Mrs. Dickens. The young girl immediately made herself comfortable in the seat next to Hans, grinning up at him in awe. He blinked at her then smiled before turning attention back to the table and the food that had been laid out.

"Now, what's this about a murderer on the prowl?" Hans questioned.

"Oh Mr. Andersen, it's so exciting! A mysterious man wandering the streets of Britain picking off the unsuspecting," the girl stated. "No one has a clue why. There doesn't seem to be any rhyme or reason to the killings. They don't seem linked at all. Mother's up in arms over it. Father thinks there's nothing to fear."

"Has anyone got a look at him?" Hans asked.

"Not a good one," the daughter replied. "Here's a picture." She slid over a paper and Hans looked at the photo. He started, eyes widening a bit and an uneasy feeling coming over him. That… that looked like Mr. Hyde…

"Hans?" Charles asked. "Something wrong?"

"I… No. Nothing," Hans replied. "Just… startling that someone got so close and yet came out alive. If he's dangerous as all that."

"So, Mr. Andersen, how long will you be staying?" Mrs. Dickens asked, obviously unenthusiastic about hosting a guest.

"I-I'm afraid I don't know, Mrs. Dickens," Hans replied. "There are some… things going on at home and just… I'm not certain when they'll be worked out."

"Oh?" Mrs. Dickens replied.

"Yes. I'd rather not talk about it," Hans said. Mrs. Dickens frowned but let it go.

In not long more children shuffled into the dining room, sleepily rubbing their eyes. Hans counted them up. Nine in all, seven boys two girls. Dickens smiled. "Hans, allow me to introduce my family," he said. "This is my wife, Catherine Thomson Hogarth. In order from eldest to youngest my children are Charles Dickens Jr, Mary Dickens the child next to you, Kate Dickens, Walter Landor Dickens, Francis Dickens, Alfred D'Orsay Tennyson Dickens, Sydney Smith Haldimand Dickens, Henery Fielding Dickens, and Edward Dickens." His smile fell a little. "There… was a third daughter once… Her name was Dora Annie Dickens…"

Hans, who had been smiling until then, felt the smile vanish. He looked over at his friend in concern. He looked deeply upset. The other children were bowing their heads solemnly. Catherine's eyes were tightly shut, her hands clasped in her lap. She was swallowing over a lump in her throat. He didn't need to ask what happened to have guessed, and an uncomfortable feeling twisted painfully in his gut. Many children died so very young… A cold chill raced through him. What if… what if his and Elsa's child became one of them…?

"I'm sorry, Charles," he murmured softly.

Charles shook his head. "There's nothing to be done for it," he said, forcing a pained smile. "At least we had her for… for a little while… She was eight months…" Hans felt like he'd been punched in the stomach and fought the urge to excuse himself and just flee right back to Arendelle and Elsa and make sure nothing like that ever, ever happened to her or to their baby even though he knew that if it ever came to such a tragedy the both of them would be powerless to stop it. Silence. "Let's eat, shall we?" he said with a forced laugh that tried to lighten the mood but failed miserably.

"Let's," Hans agreed.

Frozen

Hans stood outside after breakfast—and a million questions from Charles' eldest daughter Marie—looking out over the streets. He heard his friend approaching. "So then, what really startled you about that picture?" Charles asked.

"It... It looks like Hyde..." Hans replied. Charles' smile fell instantly, his skin paling a little. "Seeing him here is… unsettling. You know what he is. A violent, dangerous, debauched man who kills without discrimination. It's not a pretty picture. If he's on these streets again, I fear… I fear it may be Jekyll he's trying to find."

"Should we warn him?" Charles asked, visibly concerned.

"Yeah. Maybe. Definitely," Hans replied. "Next time we see him."

Charles nodded in agreement. "I could invite him over," he said.

"That's a good idea," Hans replied. "The sooner he's warned the better."

Silence. "So… what do you think of them? My family?" Charles asked.

"I'm pretty sure your wife hates me. Haven't figured out your children yet," Hans replied.

"Catherine's… outspoken," Charles said. "She doesn't like being inconvenienced. Apologies if she's made you feel unwelcome."

"It's okay," Hans replied, shrugging. "Hey, maybe she won't resent your friends so much after she meets the respectable doctor. And the lawyer that comes with him. Utterson seems a good man."

"He was a riot at the restaurant," Charles replied, smiling wickedly. Hans chuckled at the remark, nodding in agreement.


	5. Dinners and Outings

Dinners and Outings

The knights hadn't spoken since leaving Camelot behind. The waterfalls had disappeared from view even as they'd watched, hidden behind illusion or whatever hid them. Now that they were nearing Orkney, however, Lot seemed to be becoming a little more open to speaking again. They were relieved when he finally did. "Would that the gods have deigned to spare and hide my own home as well," he said.

"It may have become a tourist attraction, I have to warn you," Franz said to him with a serious frown.

"But as long as you don't get carried away maybe people will think you're _part_ of said attraction," Justic teased, smirking. Lot frowned, unimpressed at the remark, then grimaced at how plausible it could very well be. _That_ certainly wasn't something he was looking forward to. At all. He hoped he'd been honored by having his own home hidden from time. He didn't even care if it was in ruin, at least it was something! He'd grieve it a good long while if it was of course, but they could work with ruin. He hoped.

The ship cut through the Orkney Islands, the princes relying solely on Lot's direction to get them where they wanted to be. The king was becoming quite animated and anxious at this point, eager to get there all the faster. Even Mordred was looking more excited and hopeful. "Papa!" the boy cried out suddenly. Lot quickly looked in the direction his adopted son was pointing and started, eyes growing wider. There, in the distance, he saw the towers of a castle peeking above a small swath off trees… Ruins, yes, but not irreparable ruins. In fact, it was intact enough it could be a shelter. A home.

Lot stared at it. "That's it," he said. The princes immediately cut the ship towards the island. In not long they were anchored off the coast. The castle wasn't on the shore or on a cliff, it was further inland. But it was there. The princes could only marvel at its spires as the longboats drew into shore. They followed the knights, who now were racing across the island in the direction of it, unsure of what to think or say. Then they were there. Standing on the edge of a small wooded area looking across an expanse to the castle before them…

Frozen

"This, then, is where you'll stay?" Caleb finally found the words to say.

"It's still here… It's still here…" Lot answered, voice wavering a bit. They needed no further confirmation. Mordred gave a cry and tried to struggle free. Lot winced, holding him. "Mordred, there will be no servants to greet you now. Nor will there be your brothers… Or your mother…" Lot said.

Mordred stopped struggling, looking a moment devastated, but as the reality set in he seemed to come to an understanding and bowed his head. "Yes sir," he replied quietly. "I know."

Lot nodded then put him down. Mordred ran for the castle anyway, though less enthusiastically. Lot followed quickly along with the rest of his company. As the other knights entered, Lot paused and looked back at the twelve princes who stood still and unsure of what to do. "Come with us. Dine in my halls. Stay a spell, a night or some nights, and then set off to find the one you came here to find; but for now you and all your crew will be my guests. You're welcome here. Thank you. For bringing me home."

"It was our honor. Now you uphold _your_ end of the bargain and ensure your child doesn't ever get _near_ our brother," Justic answered flatly. "Ever."

"As you say," Lot replied, bowing his head to the princes. They bowed back and followed the man into his palace. "I'm afraid there isn't much to it," he said. "It's… It's been a long time…"

"There… there were still furnishings. In Arthur's palace," Kelin-Sel said carefully. Lot was silent. He'd been painfully aware. "Perhaps there are still furnishings _here_ as well."

Lot stayed quiet. "Hoel!" he called to one of his fellows. Hoel paused, looking back. "Attend our guests, if you don't mind. I… I have to bring Mordred somewhere," he said. Hoel paused, raising an eyebrow, but nonetheless nodded an assent. Lot nodded and went to Mordred, who was watching him curiously now. "Come, little one. Let's… let's find your room, shall we? Where it once was."

Mordred looked a bit saddened, bowing his head. There would be nothing there anymore… Just an empty room. He went to Lot, reaching up and taking his hand. Lot squeezed the boy's hand reassuringly and led him off.

"It's here! It's still here!" Alisander called, racing into the once-grand hall. "The dining room, the kitchen. It's still there. Furnished as if it was never left! Albeit ancient and in many cases in need of desperate renovation." The others started and raced after the once-Byzantine Emperor. They came into the dining hall and stopped, gasping. There before them was a long table, covered in dust and cobwebs. But still there was a strip of cloth, ratty with age, extending down its middle. Above it there still hung a horn chandelier. On the walls there were still torches, long extinguished but still very much existent. Around it were still chairs, some pulled out as if recently vacated and awaiting the return of those who'd once sat upon them… Dust particles shone in the sunbeams coming through the ancient and in most cases broken windows, though a few remained untouched. The group of knights slowly moved through the space, pausing at the chairs they chose to sit on and may have sat on whenever a group of them had gathered here for a shared meal. They began to sit, one by one. Kay and Alisander remained standing. Alisander moved towards the kitchen with Kay and they peered inside. Ancient kegs and barrels that once had held food. It had all probably rotted away or been eaten by scavenging animals or birds. Kay moved towards the back, opening a creaking, ancient door and peering down into darkness.

One of the Southern Princes approached him, Iscawin, with a torch freshly lit. Kay stared at it quietly. "It's been over a thousand years since any of those were lit," Kay murmured after a moment.

"If that's the wine cellar you're looking in, it's also been over a thousand years that wine's been aging!" Dinadan called out.

"Contrary to what you think, alcohol _does_ go bad, Dinadan," Menw flatly said to his companion.

"They preserved the palace and furnishings, why not the wine?" Dinadan replied.

"Who preserved it?" Iscawin asked Kay and Alexander curiously.

"He alludes to either gods or fae," Alexander replied. "I would guess gods. The fae were far more hit and miss, especially with us… But perhaps the Elfin King or the fairy prince would have tended it…"

"Why?" Iscawin asked.

Alisander was quiet. "It's a long story," he finally replied.

Kay huffed and started down into the presumed wine cellar. Iscawin followed with the torch. Alisander took up the rear. They reached the bottom and Kay went to one of the vats. He took the dusty and musty lid, prying it up and looking inside. The scent of honey and spices flitted up, along with the grosser smelling fermented scent. Kay breathed in and let out a sigh. "Dare you taste it, Sir Kay?" Iscawin asked. One-thousand-year-old wine didn't sound safe, but then he wouldn't know. He didn't do a lot of drinking. And if fae or other had had a hand in its preservation, it was probably okay.

Kay looked back at him vaguely disdainfully then turned to the barrel again. Nearby hung an ancient brass ladle. He took it and dipped it in, bringing it up to his lips and tasting. He coughed and covered his mouth. "Oh that's strong," he said.

"But not bad?" Alisander asked, mystified.

"Ho, ho, no. Not in the slightest," Kay said, grinning wickedly at the vat. "Taste this, boy. Put hair on your chest," he said, shoving it towards Iscawin.

Iscawin grimaced. "Perhaps with dinner," he said.

"Your loss," Kay replied, shrugging and sipping again.

"Save some for me," Alisander chastised.

"Get your own," Kay replied.

"Give me that!" Alisander shot, snatching the ladle and sipping.

"Hey!" Kay protested.

Alexander started to cough. "Wow!" he said. "And this was the _cheapest_ stuff Lot had.

"Imagine the best!" Kay said, taking his arms eagerly with a grin.

"Restrain yourself Kay!" Alexander said. "We want them coherent for more than a minute to actually enjoy the meal and drink." Kay frowned and harrumphed, but nevertheless put back on the lid and lifted the heavy vat.

"Back to the party then?" Iscawin said. Kay grunted, heading up. Iscawin and Alexander followed, becoming increasingly more eager.

Frozen

Lot and Mordred moved through the empty halls quietly. Mordred's head was hung. He couldn't bear to see the palace that had been his home for so long so incredibly empty. Lot paused. Mordred looked up. His room, he noted. He drew closer to Lot. Lot looked down at him and drew a hand through the boy's pitch black hair. He turned to the door, reaching out. Mordred closed his eyes as Lot pushed open the creaking door. "By the gods…" the king breathed.

Mordred opened his eyes tentatively and gasped, tears almost immediately jumping to them. There before him was his room. Furnished as if he'd never left… The furnishings were ancient and faded, dusty and in dire need of repair, but they were there! Things that should have rotted away long ago, still there. He let out a breath, going towards his bed and reaching out for the ancient cover that, again, should have rotted long ago. Tentatively he crawled onto it and knelt there, staring down at it. Lot came in, going to his window, and peered out down on the once-gardens, now overgrown and thorny and almost unrecognizable. But he could still see the stone fountain. He could still see remnants of paths and statues hidden beneath the veneer of nature.

"We have a project, little one," he murmured to Mordred gently. "A beautiful one." Mordred whimpered, curling up on his bed. Lot looked over. "No sleeping there just yet, child. We need to shake out all the dust," he said, voice wavering slightly. Mordred sniffed, wiping his eyes, and grinned, nodding happily and almost contentedly. "See darling? We're home now… Nothing and no one will ever hurt you again…" Mordred nodded again, throwing himself into Lot's arms. Lot held him gently, lightly swaying him.

Frozen

The dining room had been cleaned up enough that it was semi-presentable. Of course there was no food in the palace, but they'd brought food from the ships and three of the knights had gone off hunting and brought back a good sized kill which had been promptly dressed and cooked. The crew were all murmuring to one another in wonder. They'd been sworn to secrecy, what they'd seen here could never get out, but they hardly cared, too awed by the sights around them. Lot sat at the head of the table. He wore ancient and faded clothing. Perhaps he'd found them in what had been his room in what had been his closet. In fact, there wasn't a 'perhaps' about it. He'd found in there and donned it, and despite its age and its faded colors and splendor, Caleb at the foot of the table found himself feeling almost inadequate in his own royal robes. He could only stare at Lot in awe and think to himself that if ever there'd been a question in his mind as to whether this man was genuine, that question was no more. This man had stepped from a story book into reality, and he was there, and he was real, and Caleb almost felt like they'd gone back in time to the era the knights had known. It was truly something. He felt like he had been pulled into one of the picture books mother used to read them, of fairy tales and legends of long ago; Arthur and his Knights and the likes of Beowulf and Siegfried and other such epics and legends.

Franz was drunk out of his head. He'd taken a sip of the wine then started downing it. Dinadan had of course gotten in on that action, then Kay, then a good number of the crew, then Alexander, but Franz, Dinadan, Kay, and the crew members who'd followed their lead topped the drunken scale. Lot was smirking in amusement at the laughter and drunken talk going around. The sober conversation was what most interested him, though. At least it made sense and proved wildly more entertaining and coherent than the drunken tales going about. Mordred was snuggled on Lot's knee passed out. He'd gotten a hold of a glass of wine, snatching it from under Hoel's nose. Suffice it to say, his seven-year-old body couldn't handle that kind of kick and he'd zonked out within a minute. At least he'd finished eating. The poor child would have quite the hangover tomorrow, though. Lot planned to thoroughly lecture him in the morning once he started feeling better, but right now he just found it hilarious, especially when Mordred started to hiccup. Served the boy right for stealing what he had no right stealing.

"Is he going to be okay?" Rudi concernedly asked, watching Mordred.

"If he isn't, he'll learn his lesson fast," Lot replied, brushing it off.

"But alcohol poisoning!" Rudi protested.

"He's fine," Lot assured. Hoped, rather. Really, really hoped. They were sorely lacking a physician at the moment. Carados hadn't returned with them and nor had… had Gawain… A painful pang pulled at his heart and sadness briefly came to his expression.

Rudi winced. "Your majesty, drink up," he said, filling Lot's goblet again. He could guess where Lot's thoughts had gone. The man had been spotted staring into the bedrooms that presumably had once belonged to his children, and had been in a gloomy mood until Hoel had coaxed him away from there to get ready for this feast they were having now. Lot raised an eyebrow at him then wryly smirked, catching on. He took the goblet without question, downing it.

"Having no cupbearer is a bad idea," Justic sang out.

"What, you plan to assassinate me when I'm the only thing blocking Mordred from your brother? I doubt it. Shut it, Safir," Lot bit.

Justic frowned but let it go. Hey, Safir had been the seventh most skilled Knight of the Round Table. He couldn't really complain about being compared to the guy. "We are most grateful for your hospitality, my liege," he said.

Lot nodded. "Not half as grateful as we are to you and your siblings," Lot replied. "I wish the best for your brother Hans. And that you find him well."

"Thank you," Justic replied. "Oh, he'll hate that he missed out on all _this_."

"I'm willing to bet he'll be more concerned about his falling out with his wife than finding lost civilizations," Menw said. Lot, Rudi, and Justic all looked at him like he was crazy. He blinked then frowned. "Never mind," he said with a sigh. "Perhaps it's best you not tell him you found Camelot and the kingdom of Lot of Orkney then."

"It'll be a herculean feat not to, but we'll manage… Hopefully," Rudi said.

"Where are the wenches?! Bring them out!" Franz shouted out, slamming his goblet down on the table.

Rudi winced and frowned at his brother. "And he's officially drunk out of his ever-loving mind. Perhaps we'd best get our brother to bed," he dryly said.

"Preferably before Dinadan does," Justic threw in. He and Rudi both snickered at that. Lot laughed. It was the first time they'd heard him full out laugh without restraint, so they were fairly pleased with themselves.

"Good health to you, your majesty," Justic said, rising and bowing to Lot before heading over to Franz. Rudi bowed and followed his little brother as well. They began to gently coax Franz to come along with them despite Dinadan's vaguely annoyed remarks about how they should leave him here or about how he could take fine care of him. Of course, when it became obvious they were taking Franz regardless, the knight turned his attentions to Kelin-Sel who looked appalled at the advances. Of course, Kelin-Sel wasn't surprised, he'd learned enough about Dinadan to catch onto his licentious ways. After the initial shock, he just kind of went with it out of amusement and humored the knight, feigning interest until Dinadan inevitably passed out. He smirked in amusement when the knight finally did, shaking his had hopelessly. He had to admit, the guy knew how to pour on the flirt. He'd honestly been a bit flattered at the various remarks about his 'comely form' and 'boundless beauty'. He would have to steal some of those lines for if and when he ever found a love interest, he decided. He should take some notes before he forgot them. Caleb, of course, was blatantly unimpressed.

"His goal's probably to try and bed all of you and then perhaps all your wives and or significant others before our time out here's over," Hoel teased Caleb.

Caleb grimaced. Well, that was _one_ goal the knight wouldn't realize, he decided immediately. "I hope you're kidding," he flatly said.

"I'm… exaggerating. By how much is for me to know and you to find out," Hoel answered, chuckling and sipping at the drink. Soon the feast was ended, and shortly the princes, their crewmen, and the once-knights had turned in to bed. Tomorrow they would be on their way, short the knights, to wherever their brother may be. Or in a few days. They could get used to this, after all.

 _In London_

"I take it your wife was displeased when she learned she'd have two more guests tonight for dinner?" Hans asked.

"Displeased is putting it mildly," Charles dryly replied. "But I told her it would be a highly respected doctor and his highly respected lawyer, and she was appeased. She's going all out to please them."

"Couldn't be bothered pleasing a lowly author but more than glad to please a rich lawyer and respectable doctor," Hans teased. Charles smirked then looked towards the road again. "Ah, there they are! Dr. Jekyll and dear Mr. Utterson, welcome!" Charles called out as a handsome cab arrived and the two men stepped out.

"Mr. Dickens, a pleasure," Utterson greeted, tipping his hat.

"Mr. Dickens, Mr. Andersen," Jekyll said, smiling and bowing to the two. "Your invitation was unexpected but welcome."

"And after dinner there will be pleasant conversation, then we meet up with the rest of our ragtag bunch and have a night on the town like we'd planned," Charles said.

"Prostitutes and all I presume?" Utterson asked jokingly. Charles laughed, shaking their hands.

"I'm not sleeping with a prostitute," Hans flatly said, not at all humored by the remark. "I have a pregnant wife at home who I'm not inclined to lose."

"Oh lighten up, Andersen," Utterson said.

Hans rolled his eyes then looked to Jekyll. "Truth be told there is more reason than good company we've invited you two here," he said seriously.

Jekyll frowned, slightly concerned at the remark. "Really?" he asked. "Well don't keep us in suspense, Hans. What is it?"

"After dinner, Henry, promise. Let's enjoy the evening first before bringing in serious topics," Hans said. Jekyll frowned, obviously not thrilled with the suggestion, but soon relented, nodding an assent.

Frozen

"Dr. Jekyll, Mr. Utterson, the pleasure is all ours! Do come in," Catherine cheerily greeted, the total opposite of what she'd been with Hans. He had to give her credit for knowing when to best work her charms. Kiss up to those who can benefit you, cold shoulder those of no use to you. She'd have made a hell of a royal or aristocrat. Ironic Dickens couldn't stand those types and had yet married this woman.

"Thank you, Mrs. Dickens. We hate to be bothers," Utterson said.

"No, not at all! We're thrilled to have you," she replied, strutting off. "Take a seat at the table and I will bring out the food!" she called back as she left.

"Your wife is delightful, Charles," Jekyll said.

"When she chooses to be," Charles flatly answered. Jekyll and Utterson gave him curious looks but didn't press. "Here, I'll take your coats gentlemen. And hats."

"Thank you, Mr. Dickens," Utterson said, handing his own over. Jekyll followed suite. Charles took them and hung them up before returning and sitting with them. Soon his wife had come out, laying the table. His children followed their mother not long after. Immediately his eldest daughter found a place next to Hans. Catherine sat opposite her husband at at the foot of the table.

"I must say, I've met more of Charles' friends in two short days than I have in as long as I can recall," Catherine said, lightly teasing her husband.

"Are you impressed then, madame?" Utterson asked.

"For the most part," she replied, shooting an annoyed glance at Hans. Hans pointedly ignored it. Not that it was hard to. He was kind of focused on the girl at his side gazing at him starry eyed and trying to strike up conversation.

"Mr. Andersen, are you married?" the girl, Mary, asked.

"Mary!" Catherine exclaimed, appalled at the direct question.

"It's alright, Mrs. Dickens," Hans said. He turned to her. "Why do you ask?"

"Because your autobiography states you aren't, but I can't see how such a thing is possible. You write so beautifully and are so well with words. Also, you are… certainly nothing like you look in that awful picture they paste of you everywhere," Mary said.

"Well, looks aren't everything Miss Dickens," Hans replied, frowning slightly. "It was a bad hair day, admittedly, but looks still aren't everything."

"Oh no, of course not, but still," Mary said.

"What you read in my autobiography is so," Hans said. At least for his pseudonym it was. He couldn't very well go around stating he was married to the Queen of Arendelle, a prince of the Southern Isles, a warrior, and all that glamour. That would bring all the wrong kinds of attention to him and his family. Of course, claiming to be single seemed to be bringing the wrong kind of attention anyway, if he was reading the signs this child was displaying correctly. Ugh, school-girl crushes. Adorable yes. Unless you were on the receiving end he was realizing fast.

"Including your suspected sojourns with men?" Mary asked.

"Mary!" Mrs. Dickens sharply barked.

Hans blinked blankly then grimaced. Riiiight. Harald and Edvard… And Karl. "It's… complicated," he settled on saying. It really wasn't, okay kind of, but it seemed the best way to get off this topic of his fake love affairs. Mrs. Dickens gave him a disgusted look. Weather it was for the suspected love affairs or for humoring her daughter's constant and inappropriate questioning was hard to tell.

"Mother, I think, is concerned you and father will…" she began.

"One more word from you, you're going to bed without supper!" Catherine snapped at her daughter.

Hans blinked and exchanged looks with Charles before they both turned attention back to Catherine. "Really darling?" Charles asked, unimpressed. "Have I ever given you reason to think I'm disloyal to you?"

"Don't start with me," Catherine bit, pointing a fork at him before putting the food into her mouth.

"Have you quite finished eliminating the possibilities of all your rivals for his affections, Miss Dickens?" Utterson, also unimpressed with Mary's lack of tact, asked, putting her on the spot. She blushed bright red. Her mother, a piece of food almost to her mouth, dropped the fork in shock looking horrified at the possibility of her little daughter having a school-girl crush on a mere author. Charles had to take a moment to blink a few times in shock as well.

"Really Utterson, control yourself," Jekyll sharply chastised. "Apologies for my friend. He sometimes loses himself."

"I'm quite sure my daughter has standards higher than a simple author!" Catherine exclaimed.

"To find a standard higher than a famous and successful author would be a tall order to fill indeed," Jekyll half-defended his friend. Hans gave him a grateful look. Mrs. Dickens gave him a dark one which immediately shut him up.

"Let's talk about something a little more uplifting!" Hans blurted.

"Like the murderer on the loose!" Mary exclaimed. Hans grimaced and pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes and shaking his head hopelessly. Hoo boy, this kid...

"The what now?" Jekyll asked.

"I heard about it," Utterson said. "Messy business that."

"Why have I been oblivious to such a thing?" Jekyll asked.

"You've been too consumed with your science and that girl you're hearkening after," Utterson replied. "Really Jekyll, read a paper every so often. The paper used to be a staple in your life you know."

"I think last night marked his fifth kill," Charles solemnly said. "It's been mostly women, but two of the victims were men. Two of the women and one of the men were prostitutes. The other two were respectable folk that seemed to just be in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"He kills indiscriminately it appears," Utterson said.

"Must we talk murder at the dinner table?" Mrs. Dickens asked with a heavy sigh.

"Apologies, madam," Jekyll said. "Come now all, let's make this a little lighter, why don't we?" The rest seemed to agree this time and the conversation turned to more pleasant and appropriate topics.

Frozen

The four men sat in the den conversing with one another after dinner. "Now, what was the more serious topic you wanted to discuss with me, Hans?" Jekyll asked.

"It's tied to the murders, Henry," Hans replied. "I just… I think you should know."

Jekyll frowned, sitting up a bit straighter and leaning forward. Charles fished around for the paper and brought it out, sliding it across to Jekyll. Jekyll was still a moment before looking down at the picture there. His heart dropped into the pit of his stomach. His eyes fixed on the photograph, and he was utterly and completely still. "My god, is that…?" Utterson began, eyes wide in shock and concern. He trailed off, looking at Jekyll. "Henry?" he asked, worried for his friend.

"It's Hyde," Jekyll finally said, whisper sounding hoarse and scared. "Oh god… It's Hyde… He's followed me."

"Not surprising given he was a part of you," Charles said. "Hans… Hans fears he may be hunting _you_ …"

Jekyll was quiet. "Then why kill those he's killed? I've had no dealings with any of them! They don't even _look_ like me!" he suddenly said.

"To lure you, perhaps. Maybe that's why the one who took that picture survived," Hans said. "And why it's so clear… He maybe knew someone was attempting to photograph him. He would have had to be very still for the picture to take without being too blurry to make out."

Jekyll was silent. "I wonder… will the death stop if I go to him?" he asked after a moment of silence.

"I am of a differing opinion to Hans. I believe that Hyde might not _want_ to be found by you. This may just be a massive taunt, a way to spite you," Charles said. "He won't let himself be caught by you or by the police. He'll just keep stalking you and hurting you and making you feel helpless."

"These deaths are not your fault, Henry," Utterson seriously said to his friend, looking concerned. "With or without you in the picture, he would have killed. Edward Hyde is a murderer and a madman. And whether you went to him or not, he would have continued."

Henry was quiet. "Perhaps we shouldn't go out tonight," he finally said.

"If you don't want to, you and I will stay at your home," Utterson promised.

"He wouldn't attack you in our presence, Jekyll. He couldn't. We would overpower him," Charles said. "We would… feel better about this if we could watch over you, you know."

"I don't want to cause anymore death, least of all any of yours!" Jekyll protested.

"You won't," Hans stated. "We promise. But frankly I'd like to keep my eyes on you too, not let you go to your house to maybe run into him face-to-face without escape." Jekyll shook his head concernedly, but he didn't protest.

Frozen

They met up again with the others. Carl and Charles were of course lukewarm to one another, but they seemed at least on slightly better terms than the night before. Of course the rest were filled in on the Hyde situation and the concerns surrounding it, but the somber mood didn't last long because Karl was very good at lightening a mood it seemed.

The evening started with dinner and cocktails. No drunken nonsense this time. It was uneventful but merry. From there it was a coach ride to the theatre where they were going to watch a merry play to make the mood lighter still. Jekyll seemed to be cheering up again. The play went well into the night and they left it with high spirits and headed for a large park event bustling with activity.

"I've never experienced stuff like this before in my _life_!" Kristoff exclaimed in wonder as he looked all around in awe, overwhelmed by everything. "It's really crowded around here."

"If you're uncomfortable, we'll stay in the less populated areas," Karl said with a smirk.

"Probably best anyway. It will keep me unrecognized longer," Harald said. Harald who had become quite the sensation and whose face had come to be widely recognized as a star of dance.

"Yeah, let's," Kristoff agreed.

"I can't believe we're chumming about with the rich and famous and elite," Francis remarked, sounding a bit giddy. "Not even as guardsmen but as peers!"

"We can say we knew the famous Hans Christian Andersen!" Edvard said.

"And the famed Charles Dickens," Erik added.

"And the famed Harald Scharff," Edvard said excitedly.

"And Duke Charles, Karl I suppose you go by, Alexander! Just think about it!" Erik exclaimed, throwing his arms around Francis and Edvard's shoulders with a wide grin. He would have grabbed Kristoff too if he'd had another arm to.

"I know! It's so cool, right?" Kristoff excitedly put in.

"Really? _Now_ you're all fanboying? Has it really just sunk in this moment that you're partying with the stars? Ones that know you by name no less," Carl teased.

"Come on Kristoff, we've been brothers-in-law for a _while_ now," Hans said, frowning at him.

"And you're famous!" Kristoff said.

Hans smirked, rolling his eyes affectionately. "Control yourselves you lot. Like Jekyll and Utterson are doing," he replied.

"Fireworks!" Harald exclaimed suddenly, sounding thrilled and pointing upwards. They rest of them turned and grinned, settling in to observe the spectacular sight.

Frozen

Around midnight it ended but the night was still young, as Carl had insisted, so they weren't heading back yet. Charles had been razzed about how his wife would have his head for being home so late, which put him in a bitter mood, but after another round of drinks he lightened up considerably. Still no drunken nonsense, thank goodness, though Erik certainly liked to put it away it seemed. Francis had cut him temporarily off. They were having such a good time they didn't notice when it was they entered the red district. Not until a prostitute called out to Harald, taking his arm. The young man yelped, turning quickly to her with wide eyes that grew wider still when he realized what she was. "Come, darling, have a little fun with me," she purred, throwing her arms about his neck and nipping at his ear. He stood utterly mortified and flustered, uncomfortably twitching and fidgeting like he wanted to shove her off but was afraid he might hurt her or her feelings.

"Whores!" Carl cried out eagerly, rubbing his hands together. "Harald, you've hit gold."

Harald glanced frantically over at Hans with a look that screamed 'help me'. Hans chuckled, smirking, and came over, pulling Harald free. "Apologies madam, but the boy's a little too… inexperienced for your nonsense," he said, ushering Harald off.

She frowned at him with a pout, then smiled. "And what of you, handsome?" she purred, tracing pictures on his chest with a finger. Which he swiftly pulled away from with a hard expression.

"I'm married," he flatly replied. "Take my friend instead," he added with a smirk, gesturing to Edvard.

"You're prostituting me out Hans? Really? After everything we had together?" Edvard said, sounding offended but plainly trying to embarrass him. "Did your love letter mean nothing?"

Hans went bright red at the remark and grimaced. He turned sheepishly to the woman who wore a shocked look and seemed like she was about to have a heart-attack then and there. "He's kidding," he lamely said. "I'm married to a woman who's pregnant with my child. He's a single bum who gets his kicks humiliating his friends. I'm sure he'll be a tender lover. Unless you want rough."

"You know the kind of lover I am," Edvard huffed. "How dare you pretend we had nothing?"

"He's kidding!" Hans shouted out, sounding agitated and scowling a bit now with fists clenched in annoyance.

"You get nothing tonight," Edvard said.

"He's with me tonight," Charles stated with a laugh.

Hans groaned, face-palming in embarrassment and shaking his head. The woman was scowling at him now. "You know what? Forget it." He turned, marching back to the others and giving Edvard and Charles death glares.

"Your little boyfriend's gone and gotten himself into more hot water," Carl sang to Hans.

Hans blinked blankly and looked over to see Harald now in the clutches of three other prostitutes and looking terrified out of his skull. "Come on kiddo, they're just women!" Kristoff called out. "Oh. One guy too. They're just people!"

Hans shook his head hopelessly and marched over, tossing his hands up in the air. He seized Harald, pulling him away. "He's mine," he flatly said. "Find someone else." He dragged Harald, who was bright red now, back to the others. "How about you stay in the middle of the group now?" Hans said, arms crossed. Harald grinned lamely and sheepishly, shrugging.

"Who here's actually interested in sampling?" Carl asked. "Or shall we keep on going?"

"I'm sure you love your den's of iniquity," Charles bit.

"I do in fact," Carl replied, smirking condescendingly at Charles.

"I could… check it out," Edvard said.

"I'm not going to a brothel. I'm married," Charles said.

"Same," Hans agreed.

"Same," Kristoff chimed.

"Courting," Jekyll stated.

"Still hung up on dead lovers and lost chances for family," Francis said, gesturing between himself and Erik.

"Well _that's_ depressing," Utterson flatly said.

"You don't have to sample the merchandise. Just hang around the bottom floor. Talk perhaps. They're just people, after all. They may have interesting stories," Carl said. The married ones, and Jekyll, seemed reluctant at first, but eventually they hesitantly tagged along.

Frozen

Harald was, as per usual, utterly mortified. Erik and Francis had taken it upon themselves to flank him on either side of the couch so no prostitute could come attempt to sit on his lap or seduce him. Kristoff was hanging awkwardly to the side trying to read a paper and not pay attention to all the… scantily clad people about. Scantily clad being generous. Ugh, what was he thinking? He and the others who were married or had significant others shouldn't even be here. Or Harald. _That_ guy was like totally hopeless here, way out of his element. He was having some trouble with his anatomy to his absolute shame, but Erik and Francis were there to kind of help him with that problem and hide it.

Jekyll was taking after Kristoff, more focused on reading a paper and brushing off advances of the numerous women trying to get his attention Utterson was semi-indulging, but he was holding onto his honor and reputation for all he was worth and refusing to get anywhere beyond maybe some exchanged kisses and on occasion allowing a little bit of non-lewd touchy-feely stuff. Edvard seemed more open to indulging and was visible one moment and disappearing another. They didn't question him or what he was doing. Either it was sex or it wasn't, at the end of the day. Kristoff had to say he admired how casually _Hans_ was taking this situation. The prince was actually engaging the prostitutes in what seemed to be interesting and wholesome conversation rather than feeding into them or ignoring them. They were getting quite comfortable around the prince, starting to drop the facades a bit in favor of chatting. And then Kristoff heard him asking their advice on how to handle the Elsa situation and looked up, blinking blankly. Seriously? I mean, he guessed beggars couldn't be choosers?

"Now that we've got passed the lame 'leave her and let me show you a good time' pickup lines—get it through your heads, I'm not sleeping with any of you or doing anything with any of you—how about some actual advice?" Hans said to the women he as speaking with, who'd finally given up trying to bed him. Ugh, Franz would love this place. Or would have before Louise.

"She's angry. Give her some time to cool off then maybe write her a nice letter," one offered. "Apologize, ask her if you can please talk… Maybe she'll respond in kind and you can go home."

"Or maybe she'll come find you. It isn't easy being pregnant and having no one to help you through tough times," another said.

"She's got a sister, friends… She has people to lean on that aren't me," Hans replied, wincing a bit.

"Maybe… But I would have much preferred my husband to have been with me through my pregnancy than my sisters," a third said.

"Where was he? Did he walk out?" Hans asked.

She winced. "He… died," she answered.

Hans flushed and felt immediately guilty for jumping to conclusions. "I… Sorry," he said.

"It's fine," she answered, shrugging. "Your wife may have her sister and friends, but… there's nothing quite like having your child's father there with you through that happy time, I think. Generally happy. It wasn't for me for obvious reasons, but I took what I got. At least he was there for a while."

"How should I apologize?" Hans asked.

"Say you were wrong even if you weren't?" one teased. "But in all seriousness, just apologize for how things turned out. You were both in the wrong but don't bring up the argument, bring up the outcome. Maybe plead a bit. It can't hurt. Does she love you?"

He was quiet. "She said she did," he finally answered.

"Ooh, you're one of _those_ types," another said.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Hans demanded.

"The sort of man who came from a rough, maybe painful past, or had a bad history, and now can't wrap his head around the fact someone could love him. The kind of man that can't admit that someone adores them even if that person has explicitly stated they do. The kind of man who'll never answer with a resounding 'yes' when someone asks if their significant other loves them because they feel like yes could become no on a dime," she replied.

Hans was quiet. "I'm leaving now," he flatly stated.

"She loves you. An argument isn't going to change that," the first said.

"You weren't there!" Hans argued. "You don't know what… what I was… And I'm pretty sure that fight reminded her painfully about what I used to be and could still become. Maybe."

"She loves you," the first stubbornly repeated.

Hans shifted, looked like he was going to argue, but then ultimately fell silent. "A letter could work," he said. "I'll… give her a bit more time first though."

"You must be the first man I've ever known who goes to a brothel and has teatime conversation with the ladies there," a bemused voice said. Carl.

Hans turned around. "You're done now I hope?" he said.

"I'd hate to interrupt your talk," Carl replied, smirking.

"You showed up as the topic closed," Hans replied. He turned to the girls. "If you'll excuse me, ladies, it's late and my friends and I really must be getting home." They smiled and bid him adieu. He rose and went with a still dumbfounded Carl, who was staring at him like he was the greatest mystery in the universe.

"You know it's really not that weird, right?" Hans said.

"You're kidding I hope," Carl replied. Hans frowned but let it go with a roll of the eyes.

Frozen

They were more than happy to be on their way. They stood outside the brothel adjusting their gloves, cloaks, and hats as they waited for a coach to happen by. Utterson finished adjusting his attire about the same time as Jekyll and smiled at his friend. Jekyll smiled back. "See? Nothing happened. We were just fine," Utterson said.

"I suppose you're right," Jekyll replied, looking across the road with Utterson. No sooner had they done so, though, when Utterson started, catching his breath and going white. "My god!" he exclaimed, pointing at something. The others quickly turned to see Utterson and Jekyll staring into a nearby alley across the street. Jekyll was visibly shaking. Utterson had gone pale as moonlight, finger pointed at something in the darkness. They looked over swiftly. There, standing in the shadows, was the figure of Edward Hyde! In his arms he held the body of a girl who for a brief, horrible second, they thought was Louise Collins!

Edvard gave a panicked cry and shot towards Hyde. The man threw the body down, turned, and fled. Edvard slid to a stop next to the body, pale, and couldn't help but let out a gasping sigh of relief to see it wasn't his sister. Before immediately feeling like scum, because this girl while not Louise, was still very, very dead. And very, very young. Not even twenty young. He felt a sick feeling rising in his stomach as he started to process just _how_ young she was. Someone somewhere had just been left bereft. "Police, police!" Jekyll frantically shouted out as he and the others were racing to Edvard's side. Men in uniform came running and Jekyll quickly explained the situation and told them of where they'd seen Hyde running. The police immediately gave pursuit, or half of them did. The other half, though, came over to them and the body of the girl. Edvard, shaking, staggered back. The others quickly joined him looking pale and shaken. How long had Hyde been stalking them for…?


	6. Louise to the Rescue

Louise to the Rescue

(A/N: Babysitting so not a lot of time to edit this chapter. Going to post it as is. Hopefully it's okay. Enjoy.)

The body had been taken away and the next day the papers were ablaze with the news of the murder. A teenaged girl. Her parents were utterly devastated and broken. A description of Hyde had been printed, but Jekyll believed it would do no good. Aforementioned doctor had shut himself away in his house and wouldn't come out for anyone or anything, not even Utterson. They'd eventually stopped trying to draw him out. At least he hadn't offed himself from guilt. A cold comfort, but it was what they had. Things were quite gloomy in the wake of the ordeal, though.

"What a dreary way to start a day," Charles dryly noted, reading the paper with a foul expression. "Poor Jekyll."

"I wish he'd realize it isn't his fault," Hans said with a frustrated sigh. "Hyde would have done something regardless."

"Jekyll's is quite the tale indeed," Charles said, wryly shaking his head. "The man is brilliant."

"He is. And it would be a shame if that brilliance was lost so I hope he doesn't try anything rash," Hans replied, audibly concerned.

"He won't. Give him a bit more credit than that," Charles sympathetically said, smiling.

"Good morning daddy," Mary said, coming down the stairs.

"Good morning love," Charles replied.

"Good morning Mr. Andersen," she sang a bit flirtily, smiling at him with her hand behind her back and looking out at him through long lashes.

"Good morning, Miss Dickens," Hans replied. "Join us." He gestured at the seat across the table from her father. She sat next to him instead.

"I've just finished reading your beautiful story 'The Nightingale'. It was so very sweet," she remarked.

"I wrote it for an opera singer I carry a torch for," he replied, tone decidedly uninterested. He didn't even spare her a look, focusing instead on eating. She looked a bit crestfallen and turned away from him sulkily.

"Behave yourself young lady," Mrs. Dickens chastised firmly, frowning at her daughter and giving Hans a look that seemed like she was trying to figure out if he was encouraging the behavior or not. Protective mother. He had to give her kudos for it, although it was a little insulting. He sipped at his tea and looked out the window slightly worriedly, hoping Jekyll was alright. And Edvard, for that matter. He'd had quite the scare when he had seen that girl in Hyde's arms, thinking it was his sister and all.

Frozen

Louise yawned, stretching and coming out of her room and into the dining room. She paused on seeing her brother there looking a wreck, his foot nervously tapping at the floor and a hot drink held tight in his hands. "Edvard?" she asked in concern, approaching him. "Whatever's the matter?"

"Rough, rough night," he answered flatly.

"That's… helpful," she replied.

Edvard winced and sighed, slipping the paper over to her about the dead girl. She read it in silence. "She looked like you," he muttered. "When I saw… saw her in his arms…"

Louise looked up, concerned. "You were there?" she said. "You saw him?"

"He dropped the body when I sprinted at him. I was afraid… afraid it was you," he said. "So, I had a scare."

She was quiet. "Did you see the murderer clearly? Did you give the police his description?" she asked.

"Of course I did, Louise. I'm not a fool," Edvard replied. He was quiet. Finally he looked up at her again. "It was… it was Mr. Hyde…" he murmured solemnly. Louise caught her breath, paling and going rigid. She blinked, trying to process his words. "Jekyll was there with us… He's blaming himself, he feels wretched, he's locked himself away and not even Utterson can reach him… It's all been very trying."

Louise was quiet. "I should go to him," she said in concern.

"Don't bother. If he won't let us in for fear one of us will be targeted next, he _certainly_ won't let you in," Edvard replied.

"I can't sit and do nothing!" she protested.

"Keep alive and out of Hyde's sights. It's the best any of us can do right now," Edvard said.

"He's going about killing people, Edvard!" she protested.

"He is. And the police have it handled. He'd being hunted," Edvard replied.

"That's no guarantee," she said.

"If there's no guarantee they'll catch him, there's even less a guarantee that civilians like you and me will," he said.

"What of Hans?" she asked.

"Politics," Edvard answered simply. A foreign prince taking justice into his own hands on another monarch's soil would end very, very badly more likely than not. Louise was quiet, obviously frustrated. Edvard sighed, reaching over and covering her hands. "It will be all worked out eventually. I promise. It must be."

"But too late to save lives," she replied, sounding upset.

Edvard could only nod. "A letter came for you," he soon said. He slid it over.

Louise took it and lit up like the sun. "It's from Franz!" she exclaimed, eagerly tearing it open and rising with a grin to read it. "Edvard, they're coming here! They're concerned about their brother, it would seem, because of what's happening between him and Elsa, so they're coming to find him and get more information on what went wrong. He can't wait to see me, he writes."

"I'm sure he can't," Edvard flatly said, rolling his eyes.

"We should have a dinner with him, don't you think Edvard? Please?" she said.

He sighed. "Very well, Louise," he relented.

She smiled and grinned at the letter again before folding it up. She looked out the window and her grin fell to a concerned look. "As for Jekyll, can we at least _try_ to see him?" She said 'we' because he knew full well odd were Edvard was going to be highly reluctant to let her out of his sight after last night.

"It will do no good, sister," Edvard replied ruefully.

"Please," she repeated again. "With or without you I'm going to try and speak to him."

Edvard frowned, displeased at this, then sighed in exasperation. "Very well," he relented. "Around lunch." She smiled at him, nodding.

Frozen

Jekyll stood in his home, in his office, staring numbly out the window with lips ever so slightly parted as if in shock. His hand shook. He swallowed, closing his lips, and reached shakily for a decanter before pouring the alcohol within into a glass and drinking from it. He lay the glass down again, closing the decanter and putting it aside. "Dr. Jekyll?" his butler, Poole, said from outside the study door a little nervously.

"Who is it now?" Jekyll asked with a stressed chuckle.

"It is Miss Collins and her brother Edvard," Poole replied.

Jekyll was silent. "Send them away," he finally said, closing his eye.

"Miss Collins directed me to insist to you they're not leaving no matter what you say," Poole replied.

"As it was with Utterson," Jekyll replied. "I have no words to share with them."

Poole left. After a while he came back. "They say they have good news for you. Potentially reassuring news. They claim the Princes of the Southern Isles have arrived in Britain, seeking their brother. Miss Collins says they may be willing to help with the Hyde matter."

"Foreign soil. They are near powerless," Jekyll answered. "Any unlawful thing they do here will strain the relations between the two countries; the battle against Cumberland is still fresh in mind. Any action they take that is unlawful in this place could be considered hostility. I'm not even a goddamn royal and I know that," he said, voice breaking and wavering near the end. He sniffed, drawing a breath. "Leave me to my misery, Poole, and deliver the same message to them."

"As you say, sir," Poole said, sounding disheartened at this. Nevertheless he left. Jekyll gritted his teeth, closing his eyes and clinging tightly to the counter. He had to fix this… How could he hope to fix this…?

 _Take him back… Trap him within you again…_

Jekyll let out a breath, shaking his head in denial. No, no, no, he didn't want it back. He didn't want it back. He couldn't control him… Not when he was part of him, not when he wasn't… But free of him, Hyde was Hyde full time, right? Was that not worse than Hyde being Hyde part time? He shook his head and went to his desk, taking out two pills and swallowing them dry. He grimaced a bit then went to lay down in bed. His head was killing him. He just needed to rest a minute. Perhaps answers would come after sleep? He almost laughed at the thought.

Frozen

"No, this is unacceptable! You tell him I'm going up there whether he likes it or not!" Louise protested, now very concerned.

"Louise, enough. Perhaps when the princes arrive one of them could get in to him better than we can," Edvard said.

"How so? He won't even let those closest to him in!" Louise protested. "I'm not leaving here until that man comes down here or opens his door to us!"

"Yes you are," Edvard said, taking her arm firmly and dragging her away.

"Edvard, let go of me! Let go!" she insisted, hitting her brother's arm insistently.

"Enough Louise! Behave yourself for goodness sakes! Don't make us or our family a goddamn spectacle! Let Jekyll have his alone time. When he's mentally ready to come seek his friends, he'll seek his friends!"

"Except what if he _doesn't_ get mentally ready?" she asked, distressed. "What if he offs himself up there?"

"He may be all that keeps Hyde in check. Jekyll will not chicken out of this. He's a braver and stronger man than he's given credit for," Edvard replied. As long as Hyde existed, Jekyll would he felt. If only out of a sense of duty and obligation. Louise, visibly frustrated, nonetheless relented. At least for now. She had a plan of her own that would all but guarantee her entrance, after all… Reckless as it may be, it would get the job done. But then things didn't always work out as planned…

Frozen

Her intention was straightforward. Go to Jekyll's home alone in the late evening or the night. Not for anything inappropriate, of course not! Just to try and speak to him. Hyde, it seemed, liked to prowl at night. Her home was some distance from Jekyll's. Her showing up at his doorstep in the darkness would give him no choice but to let her in. She knew he would not turn her away for fear of her safety. It was perhaps manipulative and cruel, but the man couldn't just shut himself in like this for goodness sakes! She was… scared for him. Scared of what he might consider doing.

For the first leg of the plan, everything went alright. She took a carriage to about halfway there then disembarked to walk the rest of the way. She perhaps could have stayed on it all the way to his home, but there had been a young family on the sidewalk looking incredibly nervous and seemingly unable to get a coach, so she had given it up to them for their safety over hers. Which in retrospect had perhaps been foolish, but one of their children had also looked very sick and it seemed they were anxious and in a hurry, so she'd done it anyway. It seemed like nothing would happen, which was good because she hadn't honestly expected anything _would_. At least not until she heard the scream…

It came from a street or two over, desperate and loud. A cry for help. She lifted her skirts and took off at a run without thinking, pale. She had nothing to defend herself with, but if the woman she had heard was being accosted, there was a chance the two of them together would be able to fend the attacker off. The cry of fear became cries of pain like she was being injured or killed. "Hold on!" Louise screamed out, following the cries.

"Help!" the voice shrieked again.

Louise raced across the second street and into an ally and there saw a man clutching a woman by the hair and stabbing her! Louise threw herself at him without thinking, attacking him from behind and seizing his wrist, trying to pry it away. "Stop it! Stop!" she screamed furiously at him. "Murderer! Brute! Leave her alone! I'll see you hung for this!" She clawed and scratched and bit at the man's neck like a vampire. The man dropped the second woman and threw himself backwards against the wall, slamming her against it. She cried out in pain but didn't let go. He did it again and again. The woman who had been getting attacked staggered to her feet, bloodied and terrified, and lunged at him as well, the two of them screaming for help or for the police while ripping and tearing at him with their fingernails and teeth; and in the other woman's case, stabbing him with her high-heeled shoes by kicking repetitively down and at his legs. The man managed to pull away from them, obviously totally taken aback and flustered, and made a run for it quickly.

Louise didn't go after him. Her attentions turned to the injured woman who was wheezing for breath and collapsing. She caught the woman before she fell. "Hold on, it's alright. I'm going to get you to a doctor. Hold on," she urgently said, getting the other's arm around her and quickly staggering from the alley. Jekyll's home wasn't far away, certainly closer than any other clinic or hospital. This woman needed help immediately. She hurried the woman as quickly as she could until Jekyll's home cam into sight. She gasped, quickly bringing her along to it, and started pounding on the door. "Henry!" she cried out. "Henry, please, I need help! Please, she's been stabbed!"

She heard movement from upstairs and looked towards his window with a gasp. Curtains were thrown open and there he was! Her heart leapt hopefully. A shocked then alarmed expression crossed his face and he threw the curtains closed, sounding like he was running for the short moment she heard the footsteps. The door was thrown open in record time and he seized the girl from her and pulled her quickly inside. "Louise, what the devil are you doing here?!" he borderline freaked.

"I came to try and see you but heard this woman scream not three streets away! I raced to help her, and she was being attacked and stabbed, but we drove him off and I hurried her here as quickly as possible to you because there was no one nearer!" Louise replied, following the doctor quickly as he ran through the house and into the den, laying the woman down on the couch looking frazzled and concerned.

"We'll be talking about this later!" he shouted at her sharply. "Get me my medical bag, now!" She didn't argue, racing away to fetch the bag and returning to him in record time. Then she raced off to fetch hot water just in case, and table salt if he should want the water salty. He was already fast at work on the injured young woman who looked dazed and tired, trying to keep her awake and alert with questions.

"What is your name, my dear?" Jekyll questioned.

"S-Sophie. Sophie Orsted," she replied, voice slightly slurred.

"Who are your parents?" he soothingly questioned.

"M-my father is-is Hans Christian Orsted," she answered.

Jekyll started, looking bowled over and stunned. "Are you serious?" he asked. She nodded. "Why he's the Danish physicist and chemist who discovered that electric currents create magnetic fields," Jekyll said in awe. "What on earth is he doing here in Britain?"

"There is a conference," she answered. "I don't know much about it."

"You must be very proud of him," Jekyll said, pushing down the wall of questions he had. Now wasn't the time.

"I am," she replied, smiling a bit.

"And you must be his pride and joy," Jekyll continued.

"Perhaps," she said, wincing in pain as Jekyll treated a particularly aggravated injury.

"You must keep awake for me now, Miss Orsted. It is a matter of life and death, you know that right?" he said.

"I do Doctor," she replied.

"Alright. Do all you can to stay alive and I will do all I can to keep you that way," he replied, smiling reassuringly. She nodded.

Frozen

Louise stood nervously in front of the fireplace in the den, waiting for word of the other woman's condition. Poole, the blessed man, had lit a fire to help soothe and comfort her. She grimaced a bit in slight discomfort. She'd been slammed violently against that wall and had little doubt her back was probably black and blue with bruises, likely some scratches as well. Stone was sharp after all, and she'd been dragged against it a few times. Finally, she heard the door to the room Jekyll had been working in open up. She looked quickly over. The doctor emerged, cleaning his hands of blood with a cloth and looking grim. And more than a little put out. She inwardly winced, sensing a lecture coming. Or a fight. Which she didn't relish.

"Is she alright?" she asked timidly, almost afraid to open dialogue with him.

"She'll survive," he answered curtly. She inwardly winced again. That tone meant anger, which meant an argument or lecture was a certainty. She probably shouldn't try to speak lest it set him off prematurely. She bowed her head, turning back to the fire and rubbing her arms. He walked behind her, entering the kitchen. She heard water splashing and then silence, after a moment. He came back out. She didn't try to speak to him. She felt his eyes boring into her back. For a moment there was nothing, but nothing didn't last. "What the devil were you thinking?" he sharply demanded of her. "You do realize what's out there, correct?"

"I'm aware, but I'm not going to stop living my life because of what-ifs," she replied. "I was concerned for your well being and so I wished to try and reach you once more."

"By putting yourself in mortal peril knowing _full_ well that I wouldn't send you away with that beast roaming the streets! Emotional manipulation. Utterly brilliant Louise! And in case you didn't catch it, that was sarcasm," he snapped.

"You were doing nothing to help yourself!" she replied. "I was afraid you were going to do something rash!"

"With Hyde roaming about willy nilly no foil to stop him? What kind of fool do you take me for? Honestly Louise, you should know better!" he replied.

"Don't talk to me as if I'm a child, Henry," she retorted, looking back at him with eyes flashing.

"Then stop behaving like one! I half suspect you're utterly _blind_ to what sort of danger you were in," he replied. "This is not a game, Miss Collins! This is debauchery, depravity, sadism, serial murder, need I go on?! And he _knows_ you, damn you woman, and knows what you mean to me! And he is coming for me and knows where I live, and what if no one had been home and you wandered here in the dark and tried to reach me but received no response? What if he then had come and spotted you? Did you have a plan for dealing with a man who could overpower you in five seconds? Did you have a plan to escape him if he pursued you? This is _not_ some romantic fantasy where the beautiful heroine races to save the suicidal love who is drowning in guilt and despair and sees no way out. This is a horror novel! People who act so brashly and foolishly as you have die in horror novels. I won't see you his victim!"

Tears threatened her eyes and she turned her back angrily on him, glaring into the flames and feeling awful. "If I hadn't come, she would have been the next name you read in the papers," she coldly stated. Jekyll was silent, and she didn't know whether to eat her own words or keep trying to argue her point. She chose to keep quiet. Nothing she said would make any of this any better. They would just be excuses to his ears. And maybe they were just that.

"At least, then, something good came of your foolhardy act," he finally said, tone cold. "I need not tell you how lucky you are that this is so. Far more often only bad comes from such poor judgment calls."

"Oh shove it up yours, Henry!" she snapped at him angrily. "Perhaps if you weren't worrying all your friends so, they wouldn't be so inclined to put themselves at risk trying to make sure you're alright!" Jekyll felt himself grow hot in anger, scowling, but decided not to reply. Instead he chose to try and take some deep breaths and calm himself down. If the two of them kept arguing this point, neither of them would come out the victor and only pain would be gained from it. Right now wasn't the time to discuss this matter. She had saved a life, she was safe, and he should be thankful for that. And was.

Silence. "Did he injure you?" he finally asked, tone a bit calmer, albeit defeated sounding.

"Will you lecture me about that too, Dr. Jekyll?" she bit.

"Louise, please. I'm not in a temper for this," he said with a sigh, feeling himself getting angry again but opting once more for calmness. After all, if she had saved Miss Orsted it meant she had been in conflict with… with Hyde… And Hyde would not have been gentle, upon being accosted.

She was quiet. "I leapt on his back. He slammed me against the stone walls a few times. Hard. I suspect I may be black and blue, and there may be some cuts, but I'm fine, Henry," she said with a sigh.

There was a beat. "Will you be comfortable raising your top so that I may examine your back?" he asked after a moment. She smirked to herself. He was probably more uneasy about the idea than she, quite frankly. A glint in her eyes, she responded by lifting it up and not saying a word. He coughed slightly uncomfortably. "Your, err, corset. It should be… undone and opened up so I can see the damage," he said.

"It's easier if someone else does it," she replied. A long, drawn out silence. She almost giggled. She finally heard him shuffling over. He set to work on her corset in stony silence, gently undoing it before pushing it open and coughing again. He didn't speak to her, just examined in utter silence.

"I'm going to apply some salves to the bruises and cuts," he finally and curtly said. It wasn't long before he returned—it was almost like he rushed, she thought with some measure of mischief—and began to apply the salve to her back.

"Your touch is so very gentle, doctor," she all but purred to him. He adamantly refused to reply. She sighed. "You're no fun to flirt with," she said with a rueful smirk. "Franz is much better at it than you."

"Prince Franz is a lewd pest. Where I am a gentleman, he is a promiscuous ass," Jekyll slightly bitterly replied. Louise laughed at the resentment in his voice and was satisfied when she felt him shiver slightly. "Fun isn't all that's important," the doctor borderline sulked, doing up her corset again.

"Of course not, Henry," she replied, turning and draping her arms around his neck. He flushed, obviously flustered. "Doctor, you're blushing like a love-smitten youth. Hardly becoming a gentleman of your age and stature," she teased. If anything, that made him blush more though more in mortification at the realization she was right. She grinned at him and stood on tiptoes, resting her chin on his shoulder. "Thank you, Henry," she murmured gently.

Jekyll was quiet. "You aren't going home alone, Louise. And I'm certainly not foolish enough to travel back by myself in the dark either. I shall have the maid make up the guest room for you," he said. She hummed in response. "Are… are you hungry?" he asked.

"No, but perhaps a cup of tea for my frazzled nerves?" she replied.

Jekyll was fairly certain he was more frazzled than her at this point, albeit for different reasons, but nonetheless humored her. "It will be done," he replied. "Come, sit. I'll arrange everything then join you in a moment." She nodded and did so.

Frozen

Soon the two of them were seated in front of the fireplace sipping their tea. "What will be done with the woman?" Loise asked.

"She'll stay here tonight, so I can monitor her. In the morning I will try and learn her place of residence either from her or from an address book. Then I will transport her to her home. I will of course get Hans to accompany me, seeing as he is most proficient in matters of weaponry and self-defense. Besides, it will be fun to introduce two Hans Christians," he replied, smirking slightly. What were the odds, honestly? Of course he knew little about the commonality of Danish names. Perhaps Hans and Christian were among the most popular, in which case it wasn't really that extraordinary after all.

"Franz is coming with his brothers to check up on Hans," Louise remarked.

Jekyll grimaced, then looked vaguely concerned. "Who's ruling their kingdom?" he asked.

"Caleb's heir, of course. He's getting his feet wet, so to speak. After all, the throne of the Southern Isles will fall to him upon his father's death. I should think there's no better time to learn the ins and outs of ruling than when you still have your parents to teach you," Louise replied.

"True," he admitted. Quiet. "He's coming for me. Hyde," Jekyll finally remarked, taking on a more somber topic. Louise pause in her drinking for a moment before sipping once more. "I wonder, sometimes, which was worse after all. His being within me or his being separate. If he is truly as separate as I had hoped to make him… He's obsessed with me. Obsessed because he and I were once one… He feels incomplete without me I suspect."

"And you?" she asked after a moment.

Silence. "Relieved," he finally replied. "Part of me feels incomplete, but not like him. I feel incomplete in a good way. For him it is… it's like a parasite ripped from its host and left openly exposed to the elements with no protection anymore."

"I was thinking something more romanticized. A child torn from its mother's breast or its father or big brother's protection too soon," she replied, only half teasing.

"You're the only one I know of who could ever equate Hyde to a child," Jekyll flatly said, unimpressed with the analogy.

Quiet. "A parasite removed from its host is certainly a much more fitting one for what Hyde is," Louise admitted. She looked at Jekyll. "Is that why he seeks you? Does he want his host back do you think?"

"Yes. But he cannot get it back and so being close to it gobbling up its scraps must suffice," Jekyll replied.

Again there was silence. "Did you ever have feelings for women before me, Henry?" Louise asked after a moment.

"I did," he answered plainly. "A man my age has felt such desires a number of times. Or most have."

"Yet alone you remained," she remarked.

Jekyll spun the cup in his hands staring into it quietly. "I could not have lived a normal life, Miss Collins. Not with him inside of me. My disorder made such a thing impossible. It's a miracle I held down a job, and I feel I was only able to do so because it was my own private practice that I ran, and because I knew my triggers, so to speak, well enough."

"What are the triggers? The ones you mean?" she asked.

"If I were in a seedy part of the city, or if I went out for drinks with friends or had just a smidgen too much. If there was a particularly attractive woman calling out to me on the streets or flirting too much, if there was gambling nearby or any sort of thing that could be considered irreputable going on… Then I would hear his voice in my head… I would feel him creeping forth… It was unsettling, to say the least… And after the potion the trigger changed. The trigger gradually became falling asleep… I would go to bed Jekyll and awaken as Hyde. Every time. Without fail. Love and marriage were an impossibility for me before, so imagine how much more impossible they were after _that_ twist," he answered.

She was quiet. "When did it start?" she asked.

"For most such things start when they are children, a response to some trauma that has happened in their lives or other such things. For others it starts in their teenaged years. For still others it starts closer to or in adulthood, a much rarer occurrence but an occurrence nonetheless, often in response to stress or again, trauma… I can't recall when mine started," he said.

"Stress or… or trauma?" she asked.

He was quiet. "It was perhaps a mixture of both," he finally replied.

"What was the trauma and the stress about?" she asked.

"I would rather not say, Louise. Apologies," he answered.

"It's fine. I won't press," she replied. She checked the time. "I should go to bed."

"Sleep well, Miss Collins," he said. She smiled, left her cup, then headed up to bed.


	7. Mysterious Woman

Mysterious Woman

Mr. Hyde stalked the misty streets in silence, cane tapping on the ground and an icy smirk on his lips. He walked with a limp, no thanks to his would-be victim stabbing him with her high heels. His leg was bloodied, but he'd been able to tend to the injuries. He'd picked up _some_ things from his time as part of Jekyll. The girl who had stopped him from taking another victim… It had been the woman Jekyll and the foreign prince vied over. Louise… She was a beautiful creature… Jekyll had taste it would seem. Perhaps he should start to trace _her_ movements as well… Would Jekyll still have her after she had been tainted by him, he wondered? He darkly chuckled at the thought.

"Edward Hyde, I presume," a voice said from near at hand. Hyde, smirk still plastered on his face, glanced in the voice's direction from the corner of his eyes. A figure was standing by the river, bathed in moonlight though his features were impossible to see. Hyde paused but didn't answer. "Do you wonder how I know you?" it asked.

"Not in particular," he replied.

The figure was quiet, examining him. "What does the name Southern Isles mean to you?" the figure asked.

"Spoilsport princes," Hyde answered.

"And that's all?" the figure asked.

"They're nuisances. Little more. Ask me what the name _Jekyll_ means to me now," Hyde said.

Silence. "I've come to make you an offer," the figure soon said.

"Mmm hmm?" Hyde replied.

"Your counterpart given into your hands, the girl he fancies at your service, and those nuisance princes in the grave," the figure stated.

Hyde was quiet. "A bargain if ever there was one," he finally replied. "The price?"

"Your allegiance and help in my cause," the figure replied.

"If that all then? Tell me, what is this 'cause'?" Hyde pressed.

"The wicked mirror made whole again, reformed inside a mortal shell. I am Carabis, hybrid son of a troll and a sprite. I am the one who forged the corrupting mirror long ago and whose foolish minions carelessly shattered it in the sky and scattered the shards the world over."

"Is that so bad? It seems it causes much more chaos the way it is," Hyde replied. "It seems as though your intent to put it back together may in fact be a good one."

"For a time I was content to watch the seeds of dissention it sewed. Now, though, my ambitions for it are much greater. When it has been put together again inside of a mortal host, that host will become my vassal and spread my influence wheresoever I wish him to. Kingdoms will fall. The _world_ will fall," Carabis replied.

"Who will this host be? Not me I should hope," Hyde said.

"I have set my sights on the youngest prince of the Southern Isles. But I am not alone in this. At my side there is a wicked bear who goes by the name of Mor'du. He seeks another to whom he may pass his age-old curse. His sights too are on the youngest prince of the Southern Isles, but this is not an inconvenience. It is perfection. Once I have put the mirror together again within that prince's body, there will be nothing left of the man and all that will remain is his mortal shell, completely taken over by the mirror… But that shell will not stay mortal, for once the mirror has been put together inside of him, he will not be able to fight what he was anymore. He will ultimately choose power over family. Once he has, the curse of Mor'du will pass to him. The mirror of corruption locked inside an unstoppable beast that I can use to my will," Carabis said.

"Why that prince in particular?" Hyde wondered.

"Because he is of the perfect mentality," Carabis replied.

"An enemy turned friend will remain so to the end," Hyde stated. "Some old proverb from somewhere or other. You're too late, fae. He's already beyond your reach."

"He wants to believe he is. Everyone wants to believe he is. But he is not mentally sound, nor will he ever be. What once was will be again, you'll see," Carabis said.

"And how often have you tried to bring what once was out again and failed?" Hyde bit. He could practically feel the anger starting to radiate off the faery creature. "I thank you for your offer, wicked hobgoblin, but those who make deals with the Fair Folk rarely come out of them unscathed. I am perfectly capable of defeating my own enemies by myself. I need no help from delusional hybrids and their pets." A furious roar, enraged, echoed out over the town, angry enough to send a shiver down Hyde's spine. The roar of a bear far, far away... Rather than cow him, though, it only seemed to excite him. "Good luck in your endeavors, but I will not be made another of your minions. Or is it _you_ , Carabis, who is the minion? Either way I will not be part of your fruitless nonsense. I am well enough on my own." With that he walked away from the enraged creature, not even turning back when it shouted after him then finally resorted to threats. Hyde just kept walking and tapping along his way…

Frozen

Hans looked at the woman in the coach with them in disbelief. She was a stunning thing he had to admit, but frankly he was more impressed with her hardiness. She'd weathered an onslaught of stabs and was still standing. Tired and in pain, but alive and eager to return home. Louise was coming along with him and Jekyll too. The woman, Sophie, was examining him. "Is something the matter?" she asked warily, noting his scrutiny.

"Marvelling, Miss Orsted, at your endurance," Hans replied. "I'm frankly amazed by you. In a non-romantic way. I'm married." Smooth cover, he dryly told himself, but he'd realized a bit late how flirty his first remark could have otherwise come across, so had had to do some damage control. He already had Dickens' eldest daughter crushing on him. He didn't need further unwanted romantic attention.

"And if you weren't?" she asked.

Hans smirked. "Perhaps," he admitted. She smiled back at him in amusement.

Hans looked out the window. He'd had no shortage of interested parties since stepping away from his identity as the worthless thirteenth prince, to focus more on his identity as a writer. The moniker of Hans Christian Andersen felt more like his real name these days than Hans Christian Westergaard did. He was almost tempted to _legally_ change it. Since he'd begun to focus more on his identity as a writer, as _him_ , he'd started mingling with people more often and making friends and connections instead of spending his life feeling sorry for himself and trying to fit a mold he'd never even truly wanted a part of. Perhaps if he'd been able to melt his own frozen heart, he would have married one of those could-have-been love interests, but he doubted it. It didn't really matter anyway. As it was it had taken Elsa to break the frozen, empty husk that others had called his heart. He would never have been able to do it alone. His smile slowly fell. Gods he wanted to go home to her…

"This is it," the woman, Sophie, soon said. The carriage came to a stop and the four of them climbed out. Jekyll approached the door, but before he had reached it the man inside raced out.

"Sophie!" he cried, taking the woman into his arms and holding her tightly, visibly trembling.

"Papa!" she replied, hugging him tightly back. The man quickly ushered her inside. He didn't shut the door behind him, but he didn't invite them in either. Hans was the one who finally entered first, taking the lead. Given his hierarchal standing, he was most entitled to do so anyway. Jekyll and Louise could follow his lead as the highest authority figure between the three of them.

Sophie and her father talked rapidly in Danish. Hans translated for Jekyll and Louise. It basically came down to the man asking his daughter questions about what had happened and Sophie answering them. Then there was some fighting, then crying, then expressions of relief and such, then her father was ordering her to sit and rest while he discussed the matter with the three who had come with her. Sophie did so. Louise went over to join her with a slightly timid smile. Jekyll and Hans stood still as the other approached.

"You are the man who saved my daughter's life?" Mr. Orsted asked.

"Miss Collins saved her life. I merely kept her breathing," Jekyll answered.

"If keeping her breathing can count as 'mere'," the man dryly replied. Hans smirked, deciding he liked this fellow.

"I am Dr. Henry Jekyll," Jekyll said. "The young woman with your daughter is Miss Louise Collins. Dr. Orsted, I've read your work. I'm frankly in awe of it. I was actually a doctor of science before I was a doctor of medicine. And still am."

"Henry Jekyll? Yes, I've read some of your works, especially your analyses of the human psyche and the behavioral sciences. It's so wonderfully in depth! How ever were you able to reach such comprehensive conclusions and theories?" Dr. Orsted replied.

"It's… complicated," Jekyll replied, grimacing a bit. He looked to Hans. "And this, Doctor, is Hans Christian Andersen, the famous author. Hans, this is Hans Christian Orsted. Doubtless your brother Rudi has spoken of him much."

"He has. I never thought I would meet you in person. My brother will be so jealous," Hans replied, smiling at the man and offering his hand, which was firmly clasped.

"Hans Christian Andersen? I'm a huge fan of your works! You speak to all ages and classes and your personifications and parallels, your ability to make a comprehensive and symbolic story out of almost anything, are the stuff of legend! And similar names besides," Orsted said with a laugh.

"I must admit, I've not met another Hans Christian before," Hans said, grinning. "But then I'm not really much of a people person. Generally."

"Your story _The Ice Maiden_ was astounding," Orsted said.

"Thank you. I actually took inspiration from the life story of a friend of mine," Hans replied, smiling. Namely Kristoff. Also personal experience, but good luck explaining _that_ one.

"Personifying the feeling of vertigo. Who would have ever thought of it but you?" Orsted asked, grinning.

"You flatter me, Orsted," Hans replied with a laugh.

"Hans, please," Orsted said, smiling.

"Then I extend you the same courtesy," Hans said. "I wish I were so familiar with your work, but other than the basics I'm afraid I know little of such things. My brother Rudi could probably speak to it for hours, as could Dr. Jekyll no doubt."

"It's fine," Orsted replied, smiling. "It's not everyone's cup of tea after all."

"I would be interested in learning a bit about it sometime," Hans said. "It sounds like it could be interesting."

"We shall have to exchange information then," Orsted said.

"I agree," Hans said.

"So, what role did you play in my daughter's rescue?" Orsted asked.

"None I'm afraid. I played bodyguard on the carriage ride here. Little known fact, and one I'd prefer to keep under wraps, but I'm actually quite proficient in weaponry," Hans said.

"Fascinating. You should teach _me_ a thing or two sometime. We'll exchange lessons for lessons," Orsted said. Hans chuckled, nodding. "Sit down, both of you. Stay for a meal. It's the least I can do to thank you for saving my daughter. I insist." They consented to do so and settled in...

Frozen

"Two weeks. He said he was staying for two weeks," Catherine Dickens hissed at her husband in annoyance.

"After the thousandth time you badgered him for a solid response!" Charles whispered back angrily. "He told you the first time you asked that he was unsure of the time frame. Why couldn't you have just left it at that? He's having a great many issues at home and he's my friend, Catherine. For goodness sake, it's not like he's been useless around here!"

"He's been next to it," she hissed back.

"You certainly started to warm to him after you learned he had a close friend who was a banker. Moritz Melchior, as I recall," Charles replied. Melchior had actually turned out to be quite the decent chap. They'd run into him quite by accident on one of their nightly outings and learned he and Hans were friends. Moritz had been vacationing here. Hans had been thrilled and the man was a riot, so they'd all warmed to him too.

"Two weeks, Charles. Two weeks. It's going on three!" she retorted.

"What is your problem with him?" Charles demanded.

"I don't like the way our daughter acts around him," she replied.

"It's a school-girl crush! He's never once even _considered_ reciprocating," Dickens replied. "Listen, he won't be here forever you know. Just until things are a bit more stable for him. Put up with him a little longer, will you? For me?"

Catherine sighed in annoyance. "Fine," she relented. "But if he's here very much longer, so help me!"

They heard the front door open and looked quickly over. Hans came into the room and paused on seeing them close together looking annoyed with one another. "Uh, am I interrupting something?" he asked.

"You always are," Catherine replied, moving away from her husband who glared after her in annoyance and gave a frustrated sigh.

"Am I missing something?" Hans asked.

"I'm afraid I haven't been giving her the attention she deserves," Charles replied.

"If you want a night in, just say the word," Hans replied, shrugging. "It's really fine, Charles."

Charles shook his head. "I'm sorry for her lack of hospitality, Hans," he said.

"She's been really good about it so far. She deserves to blow off a bit of steam," Hans replied. "I mean, I'm sticking around a pretty long time for a houseguest. Even you're bound to be getting annoyed by this point."

"I suspect I will be soon, but it'll probably be mostly due to my wife," he flatly replied.

Hans chuckled, smirking. _He_ wasn't so sure, but he'd roll with it. "Seriously Charles. If you want a family night say the word and I'll go find something to do. Maybe check up on Jekyll, possibly show Kristoff, Erik, and Francis some of the sites, etcetera."

"Tonight too soon?" Charles asked.

"Wow, you _are_ sick of me," Hans replied, chuckling.

"No, Hans, it's not that. Just feeling a little guilty is all," he replied.

"It's fine," Hans replied. "I don't know what time I'll be back. Maybe I'll stay with someone else for the night, but we'll see."

"Thank you, Hans. Be careful out there, though. Hyde is still on the prowl, as far as I know," Charles said. Hans nodded. "So… I saw you in the papers. With Hans Orsted and his daughter Sophie. I've seen you in them a few times now. Most often photographed with the woman. You and she seem… close."

"We hit it off, admittedly," Hans replied with a sigh. "Dammit, I'd hoped the papers wouldn't make this such a big deal. Her rescue and all that. And really, why picture her with me? I literally did nothing to help aside from be an escort to the carriage that brought her home. The stories focus on the right details, but the pictures don't. Do they even know my name?"

"No, and it doesn't matter anyway to them. A Danish celebrity's daughter is rescued from certain death? It's going to hit the papers. They've had pictures with her and Louise, and pictures with her and Jekyll, but always you're in them and at her side I notice, because the stories like to portray you as the mysterious, nameless protector hired after the fact to defend Orsted's precious daughter from those that would harm her in future. They focus more on that unimportant detail because frankly this is the age-old romantic fantasy drivel people just love to eat up. Not only do you and Sophie look stunning together—a picture perfect pair on the surface, practically made for one another—but you fit the bill of hero better than either Jekyll or Louise does. You're the unnamed foreigner, handsome, strong and young, with a sword and pistol at your hip at all times and intense eyes that blaze like the sun when angered."

"You're flirting Charles," Hans teased, smirking. "Perhaps your wife was right to worry."

"Hush you," Charles replied with a smirk, nudging him. His smile fell. "Really though, it's true. Louise is honestly nothing special. She's pretty enough, but she could well be _any_ young woman on the streets with the courage to try and protect someone in distress, and that encompasses most women I would think. She's a spitfire who can throw a mild to good punch here and there, but what kind of exciting hero is that?"

"A unique one I should think. The girl doesn't get enough credit," Hans said, frowning. It could be her sex working against her, but it wasn't like outstanding women _hadn't_ been recognized before. They often were in fact! Quite frankly he could name probably a few dozen off the top of his head if he cared to recall his history lessons. "Even still, what of Jekyll? He's handsome and mysterious."

"He's a mild-mannered doctor with a pleasant smile. Middle-aged, not youthful like you. Nor is he particularly exciting on the surface. He doesn't walk about with a pistol strapped to his hip, a sword at his side, and probably a dagger stuck somewhere in his boot or on his leg; probably both, for good measure," Charles said.

"There was… a lot to worry about on the Southern Isles," Hans said, grimacing and blushing in slight embarrassment.

"Mmm hmm. Foreign man, common doctor; weapons expert, expert at taking someone's temperature; young man, middle-aged chap; world explorer, homebody. You see of course what I'm getting at," Charles said.

"Point made," Hans said with a sigh. Superficially he was certainly the most exciting one.

Charles smiled. "Go on your way then, Hans. Prepare for your night out. Good luck out there," he said.

"To you as well, Charles," Hans replied with a rueful smile.

 _In Orkney_

What had started out as an overnight stay in the Castle of Orkney had extended itself into two weeks. Three weeks, probably, since Hans had left Arendelle. The princes had become totally engrossed with watching the knights take back their ruined home. They'd been moved to see their dedication to the seemingly hopeless project and so had offered manpower and help as a show of respect and admiration. Their situation was a never in a lifetime experience! Dark Age knights returned to the mortal coil and attempting to restore living history, a location pulled straight from storybooks no less? It was utterly astounding to see and be witness too, and Hans would be green with envy when he learned of it. Franz and Iscawin, however, were getting restless. Iscawin because he was worried for Hans, Franz because he was missing Louise and kind of had some explaining to do to her. Though maybe he should just not mention the whole drunken night with a knight thing. There was no guarantee anything had happened anyway!

"Why do you want to go through _me_ to ask for leave?" Dinadan asked curiously when faced by the anxious-seeming Franz and Iscawin.

Franz and Iscawin exchanged looked then turned back to him. "Because Lot's intimidating?" Iscawin lamely answered, more question than statement.

"Pfft, Lot's a pussy cat," Dinadan replied. "I think there's another reason."

"Well, I did want to say goodbye, but hey, would have done that anyway to everyone," Franz replied.

Dinadan looked like he was about to throw out a lecherous line, but before he could Iscawin stepped in. "We want to seek out our brother ahead of the others and we don't want Mordred to know," he said plainly and seriously. Dinadan immediately sobered, entering serious mode. "He's always with Lot. You know how to approach him without Mordred around. Others do too, but you and Franz are buddy-buddy," Iscawin added. Menw would have been a great option, except almost nonstop for days, he and Lars had been practicing shapeshifting, Menw teaching Lars all sorts of tips and tricks.

Dinadan glanced cautiously around before turning back. "Okay. I'll do it. Expect a summons from him in short order. Likely in the evening after Mordred's down for the night."

"Thank you Dinadan," Franz said, bowing with Iscawin.

"A 'thanks' with just words?" Dinadan though out, making a half-pass. Franz chuckled and walked away with Iscawin.

Sure enough, about an hour after Mordred would have gone down to bed, Franz and Iscawin were summoned to Lot's throne room, one of the most solid rooms in this castle and one of the most restored. "You hardly needed my leave to go," Lot said to them. "Don't let this place fool you. This ruined castle is little more than aesthetics. I'm no king. Not anymore."

"Consider it a sign of respect," Iscawin replied. "Anyway, we… we don't know the way."

"I'll show you," he answered. "There's a map of the islands as they were in my day. Whether time has changed their positions I can't say, but hopefully it should do you enough good that you can find your way to the mainland." He rose and went to a table upon which sat a few scrolls. He took one of them and rolled it out, scanning it over. "A miracle these haven't rotted to nothing," he murmured half to them and half to himself as he scanned said map. Franz and Iscawin approached him to look as well, curious.

"Landscape has changed more than I would have thought," Iscawin remarked. Not a lot, but enough that he noticed a difference.

"This is the safest route to the mainland," Lot said, tracing a route with his finger that wound through a few islands. "It seems like it wouldn't be the shortest, but it is. The lack of hazards and the currents, assuming they've stayed relatively unchanged over the years, make it so."

"We should maybe get Jurgen to sail us to the mainland. He's the best sailor we have. Comes from his years playing pirate," Franz said.

" _Being_ a pirate," Iscawin corrected. "The _last_ thing he was doing was playing at it."

"There were pirates among the Round Table," Lot mused with a reminiscing smile.

"Seriously?" Iscawin asked.

Lot hummed in confirmation, nodding. "Lamiel of Cardiff was among them, the captain of the ship. The Rose of Cardiff it was called. Unstoppable it seemed. Until it came across the Prydwen."

"God that ship was beautiful," Iscawin said, ruefully recalling seeing the outstanding piece of craftsmanship dying in the docks. He'd honestly wanted to bring it along with them just so it wouldn't be left to rot there, but if it hadn't rotted over the thousand plus years it had sat in that place, something was preserving it that way. It was still sad to see it sat all alone like that. Hans would have drooled all over it, he joked to himself. Jurgen had certainly been doing so. He was fairly sure all that kept him from stealing it was his respect for the Knights of the Round Table.

Lot nodded. "You should be on your way soon," he said. "The tides will be just right in about an hour. That's when you're best suited to leave to get there fastest."

"Thank you, your majesty Lot. You and your company. Except Mordred. That kid is creepy. And a pain," Franz said with a cheeky smirk. Lot frowned at him, unimpressed, and rolled his eyes.

"You realize his constant questions are typical of any child, correct? Most of them weren't even about Hans," Lot said. "When your baby grows up, you'll be getting a lot more of them than that."

"Children are pains. Got it. How do you explain the creepy now?" Franz challenged.

"Years of mental, physical, and intimate abuse, haunting memories of a past that still wakes _me_ up screaming or in a cold sweat, need I go on? What makes it creepier to you than me is probably the location we're in. An abandoned castle in ruins doesn't exactly help make his sleepwalking or night terrors any less horrifying to witness either. I warned you people that he sometimes walked in his sleep. And warned you not to go wandering the halls at night."

"You don't forbid us from doing stuff! We're bound to do it then," Franz protested.

"More your faults than mine," Lot replied, shrugging. "Incidentally children also say creepy things sometimes, so you'd best get used to it now before your own child is old enough to do it."

"He told Runo that he wanted to take his face off and wear it like a mask," Franz flatly said.

"They were rough-housing and tough-talking one another. Your brother told _him_ he'd remove his arms and legs and stuff his remains in a turtle shell," Lot said.

"I woke up to him hovering above me just staring," Franz said.

Lot chuckled. "He had charcoal in his hand that he hid behind his back. He was going to color your face and maybe try and shave your beard off as a joke," he said. "I was aware of it and observing it in secret."

"Keep that little crap away from blades! Especially blades used around the face," Franz protested. "And tell him to keep his hands off my beard you traitor!"

"What about the song he was singing one night when I was walking passed his room?" Iscawin asked.

Lot's smile fell and he visibly tensed. There was a beat of silence long enough to have the two princes shifting slightly uncomfortably. "What song?" he finally and darkly asked.

"Uh… I-I can't remember how it went. Something about darkness from the deep carrying him away? And loyalty?" Iscawin replied.

Lot was dead quiet. Finally he rolled up the map, placed it back where it came from, and turned to them. "You'd best prepare for your journey. You're on a time limit for the best time to leave," he said. "Now if you'll excuse me." He walked passed them rapidly, obviously with a destination firmly in mind. He moved at too quick a clip for their liking. "Mordred?!" he called out as he went. "Mordred!" The two brothers exchanged uncertain looks, not entirely sure of what the reaction meant. They just knew it wasn't good and they didn't like or trust it. They should probably alert Caleb to the strange reaction so that he could keep an eye on what this mysterious song apparently meant to Lot and to Mordred.

Frozen

As they sailed away from the island, Franz and Iscawin looked back at the castle and frowned slightly. It almost looked like no work at all had been done on it, which was impossible, but from this distance it almost appeared like it was just as decrepit as when they'd come. "Weird," Iscawin said in a measure of suspicion, voicing both their thoughts.

"I'm not even going to think about it," Franz said, shaking his head hopelessly. "Hard enough to take in the fact literal Knights of the Round Table, not some posers or rip-offs, are here in the flesh."

"Is it in the flesh?" Iscawin cryptically asked.

"We could feel them, so yes," Franz answered. "This isn't some ghost tale, kid brother. I don't think." Iscawin gave him a dubious look but let it go. Soon enough they would be on the mainland, then they could take a train cross country and be in London in hopefully not too long. They assumed that was where Hans was, at least. It was their best bet given the size of that hub. Their other brothers would join then probably about a week after they arrived, if not sooner depending on how unsettled they became. "I can't wait to see Louise."

"Here I thought your concern was over Hans," Iscawin said with a sigh.

"Pfft, kid brought it on himself. Now he can eat it. Louise is my priority now. Hans isn't in our hair anymore. Washed our hands of him after he married Elsa and started his own little family unit."

"And yet all of us still remain a family unit even after marriages and childbirths and all that," Iscawin replied sounding triumphant enough to annoy Franz but give him no argument he could make. Instead his older brother frowned at him, unimpressed, and threw up his hands hopelessly.

"Fine. I'll try and concern myself with Hans' well-being. After I've concerned myself with Louise's," Franz said.

"How are you going to explain the night with Dinadan?" Iscawin teased.

"I'm not. That never happened. No guarantee anything did anyway," Franz replied.

"Dishonesty Franz, tsk, tsk, tsk," Iscawin replied.

"It's not dishonest! I'll… tell her he spent the night one night. If we bring up the Knights of the Round Table at all," Franz replied. He grew a bit more serious. "This isn't some small thing, Iscawin. Ancient knights come back from Avalon walking upon Britain's soil once more? Scotland, more specifically? You have any idea the kind of stir that would cause? It may be in not only our best interests but theirs as well to never, ever, ever mention their existence. To anyone. Talk inevitably spreads, and the more people who know the faster it will do so. The last thing they need is legend hunters trying to hunt them down. Or the age-old search for Camelot being kicked up a notch. Or treasure and fortune seekers searching for ancient treasure troves and ruined castles that have no business ever being brought to light again… The book closed on that time and place long ago. It was blotted out and torn from the pages of history for a reason. It may be best we not challenge what that reason was."

"Probably the reason was to spare the land being ravaged by treasure seekers ripping it up searching for what had no business being found. Knightly tombs and the like. Perhaps also to spare Camelot itself from being reduced to a tourist attraction or ruined by vandals or fans wanting to take home a piece of legend and stealing stones from the very walls until nothing was left," Iscawin said. "The knights that survived Camlann probably just wanted that past to be left alone to rest in peace and allow time to do whatever it would. It was probably Constantine—that was the one who succeeded Arthur I think?—who forbade historians from publishing anything about that time and ensured all references to it were utterly wiped out. It appears he couldn't bring himself to completely erase them from memory, though. Just locations, events, things like that. Time and repeated retellings of the legends, born of no solid evidences and just hearsay, corrupted the truth enough that it made it impossible to know for sure what really happened and when anyway. If anything ever did."

"Apparently it did, or we wouldn't have seven knights torn from legend hosting our brothers in a decrepit palace forgotten by time and never found," Franz said, shrugging.

Iscawin chuckled, nodding. "And for their sake, those knights, you're probably right in saying no one should ever be allowed to know. At least not the full truth of it," he said.

"Precisely," Franz said. "So, dishonesty is all that I can offer Louise regarding them anyway. Maybe I'll say something about it, but only after swearing her to complete secrecy. Even then it would probably be bare-bones basics if anything." Iscawin nodded in agreement and the two settled in for the voyage to London.

 _Arendelle_

Elsa gave a cry of pain and discomfort. It seemed lately she'd been getting a lot more of this. She half believed her body sensed he wasn't there to soothe the cold when the baby acted up, or to soothe the pain when her back started to hurt or she got cramps. She was miserable and cranky and in pain and… and she felt so, so guilty… She kept replaying their last argument over and over and over again in her head. The more she replayed it the more anguished she felt. It had gotten to the point where she almost wondered if he would ever come back at all… Even if she sent for him, would he come? She groaned softly in pain, curling up on herself with tears threatening her eyes at another wave.

"Elsa?" Anna's voice called in concern as her sister knocked.

"You can come in Anna," Elsa replied.

Anna entered, looking concerned. "Are you alright?" she asked.

"No," Elsa replied, shaking her head. "Will he come back?" she asked, sounding more unsure than she wanted to.

"Of course he will, Elsa. He loves you. All you have to do is send for him and he'll come. You know that," Anna replied. "No matter what the British papers say! I mean…! Oops."

Elsa started and looked over at her sister. "The-the British papers? What are they saying?" she asked. "How did you even get one?"

"Um, uh, w-well you-you see… K-Kristoff went with Hans when he left, and he's been sending me letters and paper clippings about things that are going on and, um… It's nothing, Elsa, really!" Anna said.

"What are they saying, Anna?!" Elsa demanded, pain momentarily forgotten in wake of her sister's concerning words.

Anna, blushing bright red, grimaced and reluctantly handed some papers over. Elsa snatched them and her heart dropped when the first thing she was a picture of Hans standing very close to a beautiful young woman with a caption beneath it saying: _The hired help or something more?_

She was utterly silent a beat, digesting the statement, then quickly snapped her eyes to the article, starting to read through it. Normally she'd be more concerned with this apparent murdered on the prowl in her husband's place of exile, except the papers kept dropping references to how handsome a couple her husband and this lady she didn't know were, and the hints questioning whether a marriage was in the cards for the future. Which was of course preposterous! He wouldn't do that to her. They hadn't divorced, had they? No, she hadn't signed papers. Had she given him the impression they were through though? Her heart sank at the thought. No, no she hadn't! He knew that, right? And even if he didn't there was no way he would have rebounded so quickly!

"He's doing great for himself!" Anna said. And immediately realized it was probably the wrong thing to say. "I-I mean, not like that. Just… he's okay! And that's great!" Elsa handed the paper silently back, looking more miserable than before. Anna winced. "Elsa, he loves you," she said, sitting at her sister's side.

"You weren't there for our last fight," she replied. She'd heard, but wasn't there.

"It doesn't matter. No relationship is perfect or without argument, and if any are then either it's a miracle or they're both extraordinarily laid back or they're doing something wrong," Anna said.

"I know he loves me. I'm not insecure in that, Anna… But the picture still hurts a bit," Elsa said. "Not because of her but because…"

"Because he's not here with you… You haven't even seen his face for weeks until just now. You miss him," Anna gently said. Elsa was quiet. "Send for him, Elsa. He'll come back. He'll leap at the chance."

"Maybe I'll…" Elsa began.

"Queen Elsa!" Kai exclaimed, pounding urgently at the door and cutting her off.

"Kai, what's wrong?" Elsa asked.

"You must come quickly. A mysterious woman has been found lost and alone and confused. No one knows where she came from or how she could have even gotten where she was discovered. It's like she was just… there," Kai said.

"The Ice Maiden?" Anna asked in some measure of concern.

"The Ice Maiden would have no reason not to come to us directly," Elsa replied in a measure of concern. "We buried the hatchet, or at least that's how _I_ understood what happened between us. She's not our enemy anymore. I hope." She looked back to the door. "I'll receive her in the throne room, Kai. Just give me fifteen minutes to get presentable."

"Yes, your majesty," Kai replied, leaving.

Elsa got off the bed and noticed the pain had subsided to at least a tolerable level. "Help me Anna, quickly. This could be something big." Anna nodded and hurried to help her sister get ready to receive the unknown woman.

Frozen

Elsa sat on her throne with Anna at her side, both waiting to receive the mysterious woman that had been found. "Where is she?" Elsa asked the Captain of the Guard.

"She was imprisoned in the dungeon, majesty," he answered.

"You had her imprisoned? On what charge?!" Elsa demanded.

"She claimed to be the queen," he replied. "Such a claim can be construed as a threat against you and your rulership, _if_ it is not insanity."

"Where was she found?" Elsa asked.

"In the mountains, barefoot and cold and clothed in royal robes that she could not have come by honestly. It looked like she'd stepped from a history book. The men asked her who she was, where she'd come from, and how she'd come by the garb. She claimed she was the queen, she claimed she'd come from the Byzantine Empire of all ridiculous things, and she had no answer as to how she'd come by the clothing other than she'd arrived with them, which made no sense to anyone. She seemed a madwoman to the men who found her, so they arrested her on suspicion of theft and of conspiracy against the crown, and they brought her here to be incarcerated until you had the opportunity to judge her for yourself."

The doors opened just then. Anna gasped, starting. Elsa sat up straighter, blinking in shock as a bound young woman was led into the throne room, clothed in precious little. It seemed like the guards had thrown some scraps of cloth at her right before bringing her out! Elsa was quiet as the woman was dragged forward and pushed to her knees in front of the throne, looking scared and unsure of what was happening. After a moment Elsa said, "Those aren't royal robes, captain."

"No. They aren't," he replied, sounding suspicious and unimpressed as he glared at the men who'd brought her in dangerously.

"They were taken from her, sir," one of the guardsmen said, sounding agitated and uncomfortable. "She was stripped of the raiment and given prisoner rags to wear."

"Prisoner rags that _certainly_ shouldn't be so torn in such specific places leaving so much exposed!" the captain snapped sharply.

"When she was given the rags, they were whole and untorn. When we went back down for her, the leggings had been taken and what was left of the rags were like this," the guardsman agitatedly stated. "She was chilled and terrified when we went down to her. She claimed men had tried to defile her but couldn't pick them out, as she hadn't seen their faces clearly. They'd tried to blindfold her. They stopped when she claimed she had a husband who would take their heads if he should ever learn of such a dishonor done to her. Madmen and madwomen are often considered to have no rights and barely any humanity. They are vulnerable people, usually uncared for, and often no one gives a damn what happens to them, so the belief is that whatever injury or wrong is done to them can be gotten away with. She was a beautiful, vulnerable woman, unknown and uncared for, the sort of woman no one would believe. So, she became a prime target for her would-be attackers. When she claimed to have a husband, though, whoever had tried to act against her determined they were better off safe than sorry and stopped."

"Find the worthless bastards who tried to do such a thing to her and throw them in prison for the rest of their miserable lives!" Elsa snapped, punching the arm of her throne and shooting to her feet practically on fire, infuriated at this story and flushed red in rage. She wondered, briefly, how much worse her husband would have reacted to this... _He'd_ know how to root out the perpetrators. She... she wished he was here to do just that... "And get her something to wear, goddammit!" she added. The guards scrambled instantly. Elsa took a few calming breaths and sat down, shaking in anger and willing herself to get her temper in check again. Anna looked equally enraged and went to the woman furiously, draping the cape she was wearing around her. Elsa inwardly cursed. If this woman was indeed a queen like she claimed, this could be a political nightmare for Arendelle thanks to whatever idiots were responsible for this outrage. She'd hand them over happily to this woman's husband to deal with, if the woman spoke truth about being royalty. She didn't relish facing it alone.

Frozen

Soon the woman was clothed in something a little more concealing. An underdress Gerda had found for her. Her hands were cut free of the ropes and she winced, massaging her wrists. The guards took up their stations along the sides of the throne room in case of threat, but otherwise seemed to fade out of existence with only their captain at the head with Anna and Elsa. Kai and Gerda also were present and visibly concerned with the happenings.

"Are you alright?" Elsa asked after a moment.

"I'm… well enough," the strange woman answered.

"Were you injured in any way? Were the men who attempted to… harm you, at all successful? Even in the most miniscule of ways?" Elsa asked.

"Bruises where bruises have no business being," the woman answered.

Elsa would guess that meant the thighs and legs and probably the breasts and buttocks. "I assure you, I will do all in my power to ensure they don't get away with this madness, this-this criminal outrage."

"My thanks, my lady," she answered, curtseying to Elsa.

"Now, let's start at the beginning. What is your name?" Elsa asked.

The woman was silent. "Soredamer," she finally replied. "My name is Soredamer."

"Where are you from?" Elsa asked.

The woman, Soredamer, shifted. "I was born in Orkney."

"She means of course that she was born on the Orkney Islands in Scotland," Kai spoke up. That was its more common name these days.

"Yes, there," the woman said. "I… I married a Greek man and moved with him to that country."

"My Captain of the Guard claims you said you were from the Byzantine Empire?" Elsa said. "Why did you use that term? The Byzantine Empire hasn't existed since fourteen-fifty-three."

She was quiet. "I was afraid, and Empire sounded more impressive than the name of one country," she answered finally, though she sounded a little shaken at the statement.

"You claimed to be a Queen," Elsa said. "But I know who the king and queen of Greece are. You aren't them. Otto and Amalia are their names. Bavarian, I think? At least he is? I'm not entirely sure."

Again silence. "I was afraid, and what higher rank to pull to spare myself dishonor than Queen?" this woman, Soredamer, finally replied.

"You claimed to have a husband," Elsa said.

She let out a shaking breath, bowing her head and closing her eyes painfully. "His name is Alexander, or Alisander. He responds to both. They're interchangeable," she replied after a moment.

"Is he with you?" Elsa asked.

"No," she replied.

"Where is he then?" Elsa asked.

"I… I don't know…" she finally replied. "We were separated from one another. He doesn't know I came looking for him. I tried to reach your kingdom to ask for help in finding him but was accosted along the way."

"They said you were in royal robes… Where did you get them?" Elsa asked.

She was quiet. "They were a gift. From him. He was wealthy enough to afford them straight from a… museum, you call them."

"Do you really believe I'm buying a word of your story?" Elsa asked.

She didn't respond a moment. "Your majesty, the whole truth would be more unbelievable still. Then you would also believe me mad," she said finally. "The whole truth isn't a matter I will discuss with you either. Not where so many ears are present."

Elsa was quiet, considering the woman's words and her next actions. "Are you a thief or usurper?" she asked finally.

"No," the woman, Soredamer, replied immediately. "I don't want your throne or crown."

"Explain to me the robes you were wearing," Elsa said.

"Relics of the Byzantine Empire," she answered. "My husband procured them for me. That was the truth. He has connections."

"Why did you choose to wear them here then, where they would be so out of place?" Elsa asked.

"I can't answer that here and now," the woman replied.

"And I can't risk an assassination attempt so I'm uninclined to send away my guardsmen, as you can well imagine," Elsa replied, though she could put a stop to probably most any attempt on her life on her own given her powers. Gift, Hans called them… Still, she wanted to try and get to the root of who this mysterious woman was. Again she found herself missing her husband. And his ability to reflect the truth of what you were...

Soredamer examined her a moment then seemed to realize something. She smiled slightly. "You're pregnant," she said in a breath. Elsa was utterly still. "I understand your apprehension now… I had a child once…"

Silence. "Had?" Elsa finally asked, sounding a little more timid than she wanted to.

The woman nodded. "A son. His name was… was Clegis," she said.

"What… happened to him?" Elsa asked, sounding almost afraid to know.

Pain came to her eyes. "It's a long story," she replied. She looked at Elsa. "If I can find no help here from you, in finding my husband, then please my lady, let me be on my way so I can continue my search for him. Don't lock me away. I'm not mad, I swear I'm not."

Elsa was quiet and unsure. She believed the woman, yes, but the question was _should_ she believe her? "I want to know the whole story," she finally replied. "However complicated and unbelievable it may be… Just you and me and my sister, I promise it. Kai and Gerda can…"

"Kay?" she asked, seeming to perk a bit up at the name. She looked over at the man and seemed to deflate a little. "Oh. Apologies for the interruption, majesty." Kai raised a curious eyebrow at her, intrigued now. "If you trust them, they may stay as well," she said.

"Then at dinner we…" Elsa began.

"The Duke of Weselton is in Arendelle still, Elsa. He'll be dining with us too," Anna reminded.

"Is he trustworthy?" the woman asked.

"These days he is," Anna replied.

"Where is Weselton?" the woman asked.

"Um, it's a little kingdom somewhere between Britain and Germany, I think?" Anna replied. "The Duke is of Prussian—that's German I think—and British descent."

"I'll cancel and we'll do breakfast with him instead," Elsa said.

"Let him come," Soredamer said. They looked over at her curiously. "He's probably the one among you most likely to believe anything I say," she added. Elsa and Anna exchanged looks, not sure how they felt about that statement. If she thought the Duke was more likely to believe her than either of _them_? It was strange, to say the least.

"Very well," Elsa relented. "Kai, Gerda, bring her to a room and settle her. Help her find something to wear that's more than an underdress. I'll give her the benefit of the doubt."

"Yes your majesty," Gerda replied, bowing to Elsa. She went to the young woman. Kai followed with her. The three left the throne room leaving Anna and Elsa to try and puzzle all of this out and determine what to think of it all.

Frozen

Soredamer walked with Kai and Gerda quietly. Her eyes strayed to Kai. "You have a name well-beseen," she remarked after a moment.

He looked over at her, raising a curious eyebrow. "Well-beseen? That's… archaic," he remarked.

She shrugged. "Kay… It was the name of one of the best-known and strongest knights of the Round Table. Two, actually, though the second was lesser known. That one was Kai le Strange, spelled with either a C or a K… Kainus was his full first name, again with either a C or a K. The better known was Kay le Seneschal. King Arthur's foster brother."

"You're well-versed in Arthurian legend, my dear," Gerda remarked. "Have you studied it?" If she had, it was indication of a higher education which meant she was likely aristocracy, if not the queen she'd claimed to be.

"I… You could say that," she replied after a moment.

Quiet. "I've always been fond of my name," Kai replied. "I'm well aware of its connotations. I used to read those legends often as a boy. Among my favorite stories."

"Stories… Yes…" she replied quietly. She didn't speak again.

Frozen

"She's strange, dear duke. We're not sure what to make of her," Anna said, walking arm in arm with the old man as she accompanied him to the dining room. "We're kind of freaked out, honestly. And her insistence you be there was weird, especially when she said you were probably the most likely to believe her story when she tells is."

"Should I be offended?" the Duke asked, raising a dubious eyebrow at Anna.

"No! No, I didn't mean it like that! Really," Anna replied.

The Duke looked unimpressed but let it slide. "Well, we'll soon see what this poppycock is all about I should think, but I don't like this. Not one bit."

"Hold off on the judging da," Anna teased, smirking. "Maybe you'll like her. She'll probably be there already by the time we arrive. Her and Elsa and Kai and Gerda."

"Let's waste no time then, dear girl," the Duke said. "Onward!" He peacocked his way towards the doors, leaving Anna behind. Anna blinked then smirked amusedly after him before following.

The Duke of Weselton entered the dining room. "I have arrived!" he declared loudly and proudly.

"Dear Duke, welcome," Elsa said, smiling at the man as he strutted towards his place, Anna following him and going to sit in her chair. The duke was just about to sit, having pulled out his chair, when the woman spoke…

"Daniel von dem Bluhenden Tal," she said simply. The duke froze in place before looking over at her, giving her an odd look. "I was reading… People say he was a character created by a German family who wanted a claim to the legendary knights, or something like that. A figment of their imaginations… He wasn't… He was real, good duke. So, so real…"

The Duke was quiet, staring at her. "I always suspected as much," he finally said, sitting cautiously and warily down. "The name Daniel appeared in legend long before _that_ claim."

"He was a good man with a good heart. A heart too large for his own good it seemed at times," she remarked, grinning slightly but not looking up from her balled hands, where she was resting her forehead. "He was so shy. You never knew how kind and gentle he was until you really got to know him, and then you could see it. It was openly displayed. I oftentimes would joke with my husband that… that if I hadn't been wed to him, I would have wed Daniel… He would tell me that if he hadn't been interested in women, even _he_ would have gone to Daniel after he'd gotten to know the sort of man he was."

"Who's Daniel von dem Bluhenden Tal?" Anna asked.

The Duke was quiet. "Daniel von dem Bluhenden Tal was a Knight of the Round Table," he finally answered. "The brother, some believe, of Sirs Dinadan and Brunor le Noir. A German hero, among the least well-known knights of the table round outside Germany… She speaks, of course, as a fan of the character. She thinks that if he'd been real, she would have liked to marry him. Correct, my dear?"

She looked up at him. "He was real," she answered. "And I knew him by name."

Quiet. "You're mad," the Duke finally said. "Well-read for a madwoman, though, to know of Sir Daniel."

"Murdered by Lancelot who realized too late who he was. It's debated whether Lancelot killed him during his madness or killed him believing him an opposing knight," the woman said.

"What is your name?" the Duke asked.

"Soredamer," she replied.

The Duke was utterly still. "Why are you quiet, dear duke?" Elsa asked.

"Soredamer was… was the daughter of King Lot of Orkney in Arthurian legend… Married to the knight Alisander, or Alexander, le Ophelin I believe. The Byzantine Emperor in said legends," the Duke answered. "Sister of…"

"Sirs Gawain, Gaheris, Agravaine, Gareth, and Mordred," she said. The Duke paused. "Daniel was a good man," the woman, Soredamer, mused after a moment.

"Arthur would have settled for no less," the Duke replied. "Mordred notwithstanding."

"My brother was _not_ the monster he was made to be! My brother was a victim as much as anyone could be a victim. Of our mother," she said.

"Morgan?" Anna asked. She had limited knowledge of Arthurian Legend, but Morgan was a name that was tossed around pretty freely.

"Is that what they say?" Soredamer asked with a sharp laugh. "It would be my mother to somehow manage to push the blame onto her sister and go on unscathed in her reputation and the like. Morgause, or Anna, was the name of my mother! Make no mistake, Morgan had issues like you wouldn't believe and was ultimately a wretched woman on par with her sister; but in the end, despite all her antagonistic behavior towards her brother king and the Knights of the Round Table, she died at peace with my Uncle Arthur. Morgause lived and died hating him. Even if she was portrayed in the sweetest most blameless fashion possible, it would still boil down to a grown woman sleeping with a teenaged boy! The reality was worse of course, for instance he wasn't even a teenager when it happened, but even the best-case scenario leaves her a woman not worthy of being remembered or honored or defended by anyone! I'd be more inclined to extend the mercy to Morgan, and Morgan was a nightmare come to life, more powerful and physically dangerous than even her sister could have ever hoped to be!" Mentally not so much.

Frozen

"She's mad," Gerda finally dared speak up to Elsa in a murmur. "The soldiers were correct in their assumption. This woman believes she is a character from Arthurian legend of all things. If that were so, she would have died upwards of a thousand years ago."

Elsa was visibly unsettled and almost inclined to agree with Gerda, but she had promised to hear the woman's story and so hear it she would. "You need to start explaining yourself, stranger. Now."

After a moment Soredamer looked up at them. "I am the Soredamer of legend," she said plainly. "And my husband is the Knight and Emperor Alexander, member of the Round Table. And he is not alone in his existence in this era. Six others are with him. My father Lot of Orkney, Sir Menw, King Arthur's cousin Hoel, King Arthur's foster brother Kay, and Sir Dinadan… And Sir Mordred… He was who they came for…"

"She's mad," Anna said with a sigh, agreeing fully with Gerda now. Kay nodded solemnly at Elsa.

"She may not be so mad as that," the Duke of Weselton spoke up. "Some believe Arthur never truly died. Or any of his knights. Some complicated mess involving goodness knows what higher powers. A common legend is that one day Arthur would return from Avalon in Britain's time of great need to rule again. He and his knights."

"Except Britain isn't in great need," Anna pointed out. "And there's no Arthur mentioned in the company."

"Speaking of the company she mentioned, it alone tends to make me believe she may be telling the truth. Strange things do tend to happen around you girls. The selection of knights she brings up is random at best, not a company most anyone would think up let alone a madwoman who, in theory, would more likely name bigger features in legend than the likes of Sir Menw and Sir Hoel and Sir Alisander. Lot, Kay, and Dinadan I can see, Lot very tentatively, but the other three? And why Soredamer of all women? There's no such account of that selection in a madwoman! Guineveres yes, Morgans yes, Iseults yes, but Soredamers?" the Duke said.

"Are you saying you really believe this, Weselton?" Kai asked.

"I'm saying we shouldn't cast it aside as out of the realms of possibility. For goodness sakes, Hans and his brothers traipsed the underworld and brought back souvenirs to boot in their two children! And in a fairy bride of all things for _Runo_ ," Weselton said.

"And he mentioned Avalon," Elsa said. "Briefly. He said little more than 'we met King Arthur's company' before moving on, but he mentioned it nonetheless."

"So what are we supposed to do? What questions are we supposed to ask?" Anna whispered.

The Duke of Weselton turned to the woman once more, who was looking very nervous now. "Who is this woman's husband?" he asked, pointing at Elsa.

Soredamer blinked before looking at Elsa. For a moment she was quiet. "One of the thirteen princes who came to us in Avalon, I believe. I… think it was the youngest? His name was, oh what was it? Um… Oh! Hans! His name was Hans. He spoke of you so fondly, majesty."

Elsa was utterly still, as were the others. "How… how do you know that?" she finally said.

"I've answered you. He came to us in Avalon. The Grim Reaper led them there… They told us of Mordred…"

"What?" Elsa asked, tensing slightly.

Soredamer frowned a moment. "He… didn't tell you, did he? None of them did. They didn't tell you anything."

"They-they said they had gone to Avalon and met King Arthur's company," Elsa said. "He said nothing about Mordred. How _could_ he say anything? Sir Mordred, from what I understand, was killed in the Battle of… Oh what was it?"

"Camlann," the Duke of Weselton said, now utterly intrigued. "He died with Arthur, killed at one another's hands."

Soredamer was quiet. "Has he… spoken to you much? Of his dark past?" she asked after a moment.

"Yes. He becomes more and more open about it as time passes," Elsa replied.

"Did he mention a… a child? A child he spared the life of once, long ago?" she asked.

Elsa was quiet. "He told me of the murders of an infant's parents. How he couldn't bring himself to kill the infant and so placed him in an orphanage and never let his father know he'd done so," she said.

"Did he tell you also that he named that infant?" she asked. Elsa was quiet neither confirming or denying it. She was starting to get an uneasy feeling about where this was going. "He named the child Mordred," Soredamer said. "He didn't know, then, just how right he was to name him so…"

"What are you talking about?" Anna asked. "How is this even possible?"

Soredamer bowed her head sadly, grief and pain in her eyes as she remembered. "What they did to him, how they cursed him… It was wicked and cruel and vile, and it wasn't fair! My baby brother wasn't the only one to blame, he wasn't! Why did he need to pay such a steep price? He was a victim too! He was a victim too… But they didn't care. They didn't want to hear it, and so he was punished with life. Doomed to awaken in another time, in a foreign place, and live a life not worth living and die in agony and hatred and despair and guilt! Then do it again. And again. And again… And we never knew when or where, and he never knew either, just one day he would be there in Avalon and the next he would be taken or be gone, and he suffered all over again… Then the princes came… They came, and they gave us the answers we sought. _They_ knew where Mordred ended up this time, though they weren't aware they knew… And the knights heard of it, and they told your husband that he had doomed himself when he spared Mordred's life, because with that action he became Mordred's surrogate Arthur, and from that day, from the day Mordred was old enough to realize what had happened to him and who had done such folly to him, your husband was marked and Mordred was plotting his revenge and Hans' death."

Elsa paled. "What?" she asked in a breath.

"But we realized that-that maybe we could stop it. We could stop the cycle from repeating, stop Mordred from suffering, deny his fate and prove to ourselves and to him and to the powers that be that he still has a chance! And so a deal was made, and Arthur was allowed to send forth a company of knights to walk upon the earthen soil again and try to stop what will otherwise be when Mordred comes of age. He's seven now, majesty. Fourteen is when Hans must start to fear, but he need not fear at all if we can reach Mordred and stay his course before it's too late for him and for your husband both! I'm not explaining it well, I know, they could explain everything better as could your husband and his brothers, but I'm afraid I'm all you have right now," Soredamer went on.

"What are you saying?!" Elsa demanded, rising quickly.

"That your husband is a marked man, that Mordred is an assassin in the making, that the Knights of the Round Table, a small number of them, have come back to try and save your husband's life and save Mordred from a fate he's thus far been forced to live again and again," Soredamer said. "I wish I knew more, majesty, but I don't. Perhaps your husband kept documents or letters or something that might shed more light on this Mordred situation. He and his brothers have doubtless been monitoring the situation since learning of it. He just… maybe he didn't want you to worry… Especially since he probably feels there's no guarantee evil will come of it. Especially not now that the knights walk the land again."

Elsa, lips parted in shock, tried to take it all in as the others gaped in horror and disbelief. "The letter," she realized, paling a bit. The letter he'd said he needed to reply to! She gasped and rose, racing from the dining hall to go into Hans' study and find that damned letter. And any others he may or may not have exchanged with his siblings about this matter he'd kept secret from her! Which he'd be getting an earful for let it be known. She darted into his study and to his desk and began searching every nook and cranny she could find while looking for any potentially hidden compartments. Soon enough she found one and immediately worked it open. She froze on seeing a small group of letters there. After a moment she snatched them up and looked for the one most recently sent. She found it and paused before finally taking it out and reading it through. As she did, she gasped, covering her mouth and feeling suddenly weak both from fear of her husband's safety and from empathy for what she was reading Mordred had suffered… She withdrew her hand from her mouth. How was she supposed to show this to Soredamer…? She swallowed tightly. The woman had the right to know… She had the right to know the life her baby brother had lived thus far… And what he was doing…

Long story short, the moment Soredamer read the letter grief overtook her and she screamed in pain and sorrow, collapsing into tears and sobbing, clutching the letter close to her. Elsa spoke no word. By the time evening came around, preparations were already underway that would see her making as soon as she possibly could for Britain to find Hans and confront him about this. And to see what he knew of Soredamer's family and friends!

…And to ask him to come home…


	8. Jekyll Meets Hyde

Jekyll Meets Hyde

Four weeks since he'd come to stay with Charles. They said that a quick way to lose friend was to live with them. He'd never believed them, but now he was starting to feel like he should have. He felt like this friendship was on its way to being washed down the drain, and that depressed him more than a little. He'd been noticing a change in his friend's demeanor towards him. Charles was getting a little curter, a little snappier, a little more reserved… The tension and strain could be felt in the air and he hated it. He felt like it was probably mostly due to his friend's wife badgering him all the time, and perhaps his daughter now too who it seemed had decided that she was going to take her mother's side if he wouldn't return her little crush - but she was a flighty child so who was to say? - but could he really put the blame solely on them?

He leaned on the porch railing and heard the door opening behind him. He tensed but didn't turn. "Morning Hans," Charles impersonally greeted, going to fetch the paper.

"Charles," Hans greeted.

Charles started to head back inside but paused outside the door, looking back. "Any idea when you'll be leaving?" he asked, trying to sound casual.

"I've been having such fun I may stay forever," Hans replied passive aggressively. Charles was quiet a beat, which meant he'd probably caught a cold undertone, but he didn't follow up, just went back inside. Hans sighed in frustration, drawing a hand through his hair. He shouldn't blame the man, he supposed. Kristoff had been asking that same question a week ago, obviously missing Anna. He'd told his brother-in-law that he could leave if he wanted to, but Kristoff was stupidly loyal it seemed and had determined to stay as long as _he_ did. Of all the things to be loyal over, Hans dryly thought. He shook his head and went back inside the house.

"Well, how much longer?" he heard Catherine agitatedly asking her husband. "Did he say yet?"

"Forever," Charles flatly replied.

"Charles!" Catherine protested.

"Oh sod off Catherine!" the browbeaten husband snapped. "He's our guest, now why don't you start treating him like one?!"

"He's been here for four weeks!" she shouted.

"Only three of which I was able to thoroughly enjoy because you ruined the rest of it! Now _I_ want him gone for the sake of _you_ shutting up! He's my friend, damn you woman! Leave him alone and me for that matter!" Charles yelled. "You're ruining this for me, all of it! I can't take this stress!"

"Then get. Rid of him," Catherine demanded.

"Get in line, lady," Hans bitterly muttered under his breath.

"No! And that's final!" Charles shot. "Leave me the hell alone!" Angrily Charles stormed from the next room and froze on seeing Hans, immediately blushing in shame and embarrassment. "H-Hans! You, oh, um, h-how much did-did you hear?"

"Enough," Hans replied. Charles was quiet, not sure of what to say to that. Hans sighed. "Why don't we get out of here for a while, Charles? Let her cool down, let you cool down."

Charles was quiet. "Yes. Let's," he finally replied seeming torn between relief and reluctance. Like he didn't really want to accompany him but at the same time kind of did.

"Just you and me then. Unless you want to gang up with the others as well and have another night out," Hans said.

"Again? Hans, my wife would have my head," he replied with a vaguely annoyed sigh.

"Hey, I'm not too big on the idea either, okay? Sorry for bringing it up," Hans said.

Charles winced. "I'm sorry Hans," he said guiltily. "I know I haven't… quite been the best of hosts lately. It's just… four weeks is a very long time and Catherine has trouble enough without having to worry about another mouth to feed, what with how big our family is."

"I'm sorry, Charles, I really am," Hans replied. "I can go somewhere else if you want me to." He honestly didn't want to damage their friendship anymore than it had already been damaged.

"It's-it's alright. Things will be worked out between you and your wife soon, I hope?" he replied, sounding a little hopeful.

Better than things would be worked out between Charles and Catherine, Hans inwardly answered. Turned out Charles wasn't quite as faithful as he would have others believe, which had elicited a measure of disgust from Hans that had ended in a fight between them a day or two ago. "I hope," Hans answered, biting back the sharp and bitter reply that danced on his tongue.

Charles nodded. "Where to?" he asked.

"You choose this time," Hans replied. "The ball is in your court."

"That's an idea. A game of squash or badminton or tennis perhaps," Charles replied.

"I'm game. Err, no pun intended," Hans replied, smiling a bit. Charles smiled back, a smile that seemed genuine for the first time in a while now, and chuckled fondly, nodding.

Frozen

Jekyll stared out his window at the rain pouring in the night. He held a cup of tea in his hand a he watched it quietly. There had been no stir from Hyde since the night he had attacked Miss Orsted. It was unsettling, to say the least. He felt more exposed this night than ever. It was the staff's day off. No one was in this house except for him. Hyde knew this ritual of his. If ever there was a time for the man to come, it would be tonight. He expected it, in fact. He was eerily calm about it too, he noted. He felt no fear. He felt cold… Cold both physically and emotionally as he steeled himself for what he knew was coming.

The lightning flashed from a window behind him. He saw the shadow on the wall, hunched and dripping with rain. He stayed completely still. He heard the footsteps approaching. "Would you like a spot of tea, Edward?" Jekyll asked calmly. The footsteps stopped.

"Hot Toddy," was the gruff response he received. Jekyll set down his tea and moved across the room to the bar nearby to start fixing the drink. He felt the eyes boring into him. He hadn't looked up at the man yet, nor did he intend to until he had no other choice.

"Quite the night, isn't it?" Jekyll remarked.

"It suits me," Hyde answered. "It suits you too, Henry. One of the few things we had in common." Jekyll hummed in response. Silence.

"Have you come here to kill me?" Jekyll asked finally, as he was finishing up the hot toddy.

"What could I possibly gain from killing you I wonder?" Hyde replied as Jekyll took the drink in hand and walked toward him, avoiding looking at him. "Look at me, Henry," he said darkly. Jekyll reached him and offered the drink. Only then did he look at his counterpart seated in a chair. Hyde smirked a cruel smirk and took the drink. "Poisoned, I suspect?" he said.

"Had I poison on hand it might have been. But what can poison do against the likes of you? Are you more the mirror than a man, I wonder?" Jekyll asked.

"Don't confuse me with your redheaded little friend," Hyde replied with a sneer before sipping from the drink.

Jekyll didn't answer, returning to the window to get his tea then leaning against the sill, turning once more to face Hyde. "Why did you kill those people? For the fun or to get my attention?"

"I succeeded at both, so really what does it matter?" Hyde replied.

"Hmm… Have you come to kill me?" Jekyll repeated.

"No," Hyde answered. "I come to observe you. Taunt you. See you squirm."

"Sorry to disappoint," Jekyll replied.

"You'll squirm yet," Hyde replied. He looked around. "Where's that fine girl of yours?" he asked in a coo.

"I have no girl," Jekyll answered.

"Yes, of course. You're on the verge of losing to the pompous prince. Did your assets not impress her?" Hyde taunted.

"I wouldn't know as she hasn't seen them. Nor shall she ever if she marries him," Jekyll replied.

"He is much more suited to her than you," Hyde stated. Jekyll didn't bite. Hyde smirked. "But he won't have her. Neither will you. _I_ quite like the pretty little thing." Jekyll again didn't bite. "Do you miss me, Henry?" he cooed.

"No," Jekyll answered. "But I suspect _you_ miss _me_."

"Mmm… your body _was_ an asset," Hyde admitted. "Better built than that of a good number of younger men." Silence. "You can't separate us," Hyde cryptically and eerily stated. "I won't let you. Not forever… What are you without me, Henry?"

"Free," he answered. "The man I was supposed to be from the start. What are you without _me_ , Edward?"

"Unstoppable," Hyde darkly stated. For the first time, Jekyll felt a chill go through his body. "But then you knew that. Or figured it out recently enough." Silence. "Mmm, where is that girl you like so much?" Hyde asked, standing up and stretching. "Just the thought of her… oh just the thought. You can probably see what it does to me from there." Jekyll bit his tongue until he tasted blood. "She's a fighter, though. Those are always annoying… But it won't matter. I may be smaller than her thanks to your miserable concoction, but it makes no difference. After all, pound for pound a man had twice the muscle mass of a woman. Is that that the statistic, Henry? Correct me."

Jekyll ground his teeth. "No. A man is built more powerfully than a woman, but the statistic is not quite as vast as that," he finally answered. It was still vast enough of course, but he would prefer not to give Hyde that satisfaction.

"Still more than enough for me to overpower her," Hyde said. "And for you to do so."

"I have no such heinous desire," he replied.

Hyde turned to him. "What is your plan, Henry? To stop me? I wonder very much," he said. Jekyll was quiet.

"You prefer your freedom to stopping the monster that is me? You won't prefer it for long," Hyde said. "More people will die. More people will suffer. Nothing reigns me in anymore. Not you, not that twisted sprite creature, not anyone."

"Hanging I'm sure will do the job well enough," Jekyll replied.

"I'm not fully a man, remember?" Hyde cooed, putting on his top hat again. "I think I'm going to go out and find your favorite girl. How much do you think she'll scream?"

"Can you bear to be so far separated from me again, Edward? So soon after finding me?" Jekyll asked. Hyde was silent. "How empty is it? How empty do you feel? You were the manifestation, not the man… It must be so dreadful… To realize how few layers of humanity you really had. To realize you never really existed. Oh it must drive you so mad…"

Hyde turned darkly to him. "Just for that, she will scream unlike anyone has ever screamed before. I should find a way to do it in front of you I think," he said.

"You won't leave," Jekyll said. "You are bound to me."

"Watch how readily I leave," Hyde replied. He walked out of the room and out of the house. Jekyll remained still, looking down at the ground. He knew Hyde would not go far. He sensed it. He was Hyde's nucleus, and it was around him the man would orbit for the rest of their days…

 _What are you without me, Edward?_

 _Unstoppable…_

Jekyll winced at the thought and swallowed, rubbing his arms and turning to gaze nervously out of the window.

Frozen

Louise hummed in the kitchen as she was preparing food for herself and her brother to the sound of the rain outside. She heard the door being knocked on and frowned in a measure of concern. Who could be out _this_ time of the evening on such a wet and dreary day? She wiped her hands with a towel then went to respond to the knock. She peered out the window and gasped lighting up like the sun. It was Franz! And Iscawin. She ran to the door and opened it wide. "Franz!" she exclaimed, throwing her arms around him with a wide grin. "Oh my darling, you've come!"

"Louise! Oh how I've missed you," he said happily, picking her up and spinning her around with a grin as he stumbled inside. Iscawin followed, smirking.

"And I you, Franz. What on Earth are you doing here?" she asked, beaming at him.

"We came to make sure our incompetent little brother didn't royally screw himself over in his royal marriage," Iscawin replied for Franz. "He wrote us and explained what happened, so we determined to come find him here and see if there wasn't something we could do to help he and his wife reconcile."

"Where are the others?" she asked.

"Delayed," Franz replied, smiling. "They should be arriving in a few days' time."

Louise grinned. "Stay for supper, the both of you. Say you will," she invited.

"We would love to, Louise, except we must try and find a hotel or an inn to stay in for a while," Iscawin said.

"Nonesense! There's a guest bedroom here. If you two don't mind sharing a bed it can be made to work," she said. "I'm sure Edvard won't mind."

"Very well! It would be my absolute pleasure," Franz replied in a flirty murmur. She beamed at him and linked her arm through his. "So, have you had any other liaisons since I returned home?" she asked.

"Well there was one man," Franz replied, smirking playfully.

"A man?" she asked, starting. Her smile fled quickly.

He laughed. "A drunken night led to a bit of flirting and such, but don't fear my lady. He's not a viable candidate," Franz said before she could get flustered or angry.

"Oh? And why is that?" she coldly asked, obviously unimpressed with this bit of news.

"He's not into the whole raising a child thing," Franz replied, grinning. "Kind of a deal breaker, for obvious reasons."

Louise seemed satisfied with the answer and smiled at him again. "I suppose I can forgive you this time," she said.

"Your forgiveness is most appreciated, my darling," he replied. "He hit on one of my brothers later anyway."

"You find the classiest lovers, Franz," Iscawin flatly said.

Franz frowned at his little sibling in vague annoyance before turning back to Louise with a smile. "Do you need help in the kitchen?" he asked.

"You cook?" she asked.

"I… follow directions," he answered. "You just have to explain the rest to me as if you were speaking to a child."

She giggled. "Never you mind. Stay out of my kitchen in that case. Edvard should be upstairs. Why don't you talk to him about the guest room while I finish dinner?" she said.

"As you wish, my lady," Franz replied, bowing to her. Iscawin bowed as well and set off up the steps. Franz stole a kiss on Louise's cheek before following his sibling.

Frozen

The merry mood was killed almost immediately when Louise told them that Hyde had resurfaced. And had been killing. And that Louise had almost gotten _herself_ killed saving another would-have-been victim. Franz was less than impressed and wasn't shy about saying as much, which had accumulated into an argument similar to the one she'd had with Jekyll before peace had been restored again.

"It seems we came just in time," Iscawin dryly said after a few minutes of silence. "If Hyde's back on the prowl, you all may be in need of us."

"I'm most concerned for Henry," Louise said. "He's taking it badly, or seems to be."

"Blaming himself no doubt?" Franz asked. She nodded. "Figures," he said with a sigh, shaking his head ruefully. "He'll be alright. If anyone knows how to handle Mr. Hyde, it's Dr. Jekyll."

"I know you're right, but I still can't help but worry," Louise said. "None of us can help it. Hans is quite concerned for him too, and Gabriel especially. He and Henry are very close. I think Henry's greatest fear is Hyde going after those he loves."

"Henry is probably right to fear it," Edvard said gravely. "I'm concerned for you, Louise."

"And I'm concerned for you. You're his friend, someone he cares for. Don't rule yourself out as a potential target of Mr. Hyde's," Louise seriously warned. Edvard grimaced. He hadn't really thought about that, actually. It was probably a good thing she'd brought it to his attention.

"Avoid secluded places and dark streets and you should be alright," Iscawin said. "Also refrain from being alone anywhere for too long. Now where is our brother holed up?"

"Tomorrow I'll bring you to Dickens' place. He's staying there," Edvard replied. "Refrain from telling him you're princes. Dickens has… less than flattering opinions of the aristocracy and royalty. He doesn't even know Hans is a prince because your brother is something of a coward when it comes to things like that it would seem."

Frozen

Jekyll massaged his temples as he sat in his parlour, eyes closed. That Hyde had not yet returned had him worried. He heard a loud knocking on the door and looked wearily over with a slight frown. He rose, going to the door, and peered out. He started. Hans and Charles soaked to the bone! He quickly unlocked the door, letting them quickly in. "Henry, apologies for dropping by like this, but it was get to shelter or drown in that miserable torrent," Charles said.

"Hans, Charles, you can't be here!" Jekyll said, sounding alarmed and concerned.

They looked curiously at him, frowning. "Henry? Is everything alright?" Hans asked. "What do you mean?"

"Please, you must go. I'll get a coach for you or-or something, but you can't be here," Jekyll urgently said.

"Henry, what the devil is going on?" Charles asked, a little concerned at the man's reaction to their presence.

"Gentlemen, please…" Jekyll began. Then there was the heavy knock at the door and he gasped, looking quickly and fearfully over. Hans and Charles looked too. The pounding echoed in the large house eerily. They looked to Jekyll. He was as pale as a sheet.

"Henry? What's happening?" Hans asked seriously.

Jekyll looked nervously at them, then back at the door, then at them. "Get upstairs. Quickly. Hide yourselves in my room and lock the door behind you. Don't come out. Please, don't ask questions. Just do," he said. Uneasy now, Hans and Charles exchanged uncertain looks. Nonetheless they nodded in understanding and moved to obey Jekyll's request. The door knocked again. Jekyll gasped, looking over. He waited until their footsteps faded then went to answer. He peered outside. Hyde… He swallowed and began unlocking the door before opening it up, a picture of composure.

"I knew it would only be a matter of time," he greeted Hyde.

"Fortunate for you, I should think, that this storm came up. There's not a soul on the streets I could harm," Hyde answered.

"We both know why you really came back," Jekyll replied.

Hyde sneered at him then looked around. His eyes fell on wet patches on the ground. He stared. Jekyll followed his eyes and his heart plummeted, but he kept a cool and neutral expression. "Someone is here…" Hyde growled. He let out a deep, gravelly chuckle. "Unexpected guests, Henry? I should like to try and find them."

"They are gone. And even if they weren't and you found them, I'm afraid you would be sorely disappointed," Jekyll replied. "You wouldn't be able to touch them."

"Mmm… the prince," Hyde realized, smirk only growing. "Who is with him?"

"Does it matter? You will not be able to harm either of them," Jekyll replied.

"Call them down, Henry. If I'm unable to harm either of them, let us all share in a meal together. I've wondered how he's been," Hyde said.

"You're not welcome here, Edward," Jekyll replied.

"Then why did you open the door?" he asked.

"Better I keep you in my sights than let you stalk the night for an innocent victim," Jekyll replied.

"It would be so much easier for you to watch me if I were with you always," Hyde hinted. Jekyll was quiet, arms folded sternly. Hyde smirked and set off to search for Hans and Charles. "Where are you, your majesty? I know you're here," he called out as he searched. Jekyll remained in place.

Frozen

From the room above, Hans and Charles remained concealed under the bed, peering down through a crack in the floor and hearing all of this. "Prince? Your Majesty?" Charles asked, looking confusedly at Hans.

"I have no idea," Hans replied with a shrug, keeping outwardly calm but inwardly panicking.

Charles raised an eyebrow, determined Hyde probably thought it was someone else here—why would a prince be bothered writing stories about the lesser classes after all, so it couldn't be Hans he meant—and went back to peering through the hole nervously. "What if he finds us?" he whispered to Hans uncertainly.

"What _can_ he do, us armed with blades and stronger together than he is alone?" Hans replied. Charles nodded but still seemed quite nervous. "This was why he was so jumpy… Hyde found him."

"What if Hyde should attack him?" Charles asked.

"We save him. Or try," Hans replied. "But I sense the _last_ thing Hyde wants is Jekyll's death. Not like this." They heard the footsteps climbing up the steps. They heard them creaking on the floorboards. Now outside the room…

The handle was tried. They hadn't locked it, believing that if they had it would only look more suspicious. Hyde entered the room when the door swung open. He searched. Charles was tense. The man would find them. They both knew he would. Sure enough, soon his footsteps approached the bed, stopping beside it. An evil sounding chuckle. "I know you're there," the man darkly said. "Must I stoop?" Charles licked his lips nervously and looked questioningly at Hans.

Hans was still. Finally, though, the author slipped out from under the bed and slowly rose. Charles swallowed and followed his lead. The two stood across from Hyde, Charles nervous and Hans with eyes steely and expression cold. Hyde looked profoundly delighted with himself. Jekyll entered the room soon after, glancing at his two friends and looking them briefly over to see if they were alright. He then turned to Hyde. "You've trapped yourself, Edward," the doctor calmly said. "You won't escape all three of us you know. We of course can't let you get away. I'm going to summon the police now. You understand that, right?"

Hyde glanced over at him from the corner of his eyes. "Every bit as much as you understand that if you should do that, you will sign your own death warrant," he answered.

"What?" Charles asked.

"How quickly we forget," Hyde purred. "Jekyll wrote his confession. Before you separated us so cruelly, he had written his confession. Of all he'd done, of all I'd done, and he had ensured that he was as good as hung. And me as well. Then he disappeared, and I disappeared, and the police were left grasping at straws with nothing to show for that last noble act of yours, Henry. They buried some scraps of clothes, probably figuring I'd dissolved or something. You really weren't at all specific with them on how your potion worked. You've remained undetected because you're believed dead. Call them to your house, they'll fast learn the truth of it. Should you summon them here, you sign your own death warrant. And mine. But they won't hold me. Only you can hold me. They won't hold me because I am part of you that was given a human form by a wicked shard of an evil mirror, based on your potion's template. And I will escape my fate because of this human will that is yours and mine both. I am free of the creature who made this shard because of you… And I've found out where that sweet girl of yours lives… You will die alone, and she will be my whore. Now tell me, Henry, are you still so inclined to contact the police?" Jekyll's jaw twitched. He was silent. Visibly disturbed as well. He swallowed nervously.

"He's under the protection of Arendelle!" Hans quickly said.

"But a British citizen still," Hyde replied. "They will have the final say, and good luck to Utterson getting him off when Jekyll so kindly wrote up a confession, as I've said. You won't summon the police, none of you. You two for love of your friend, Jekyll for fear of me and fear for the girl and fear for all those who will suffer if he dies and I am let to live on unchecked." There was silence. Hyde smirked. "We should eat," he said, clasping his hands together. Turning, he left the room and them.

Jekyll was still, head bowed. After a moment he looked at Charles and Hans. "You need to go," he said slightly shakily, looking exhausted and defeated.

"And leave you in the company of that-that _thing_?!" Charles demanded.

"I became his captive the moment he found me. And he became mine," Jekyll replied. "We are bound to one another. We always will be… I can't escape him…"

"With his death you'll escape," Hans stated.

"How will he die, Hans? He is a shard of the mirror in a physical form," Jekyll replied with a breathy laugh. "He isn't mortal. Not like us."

"Oh yes he is. And when the physical form is gone, the shard will be helpless again and Hyde will be a memory," Hans said. He didn't know for certain if that was so, no. No one did. No one knew _anything_ about how this whole scenario worked. This was something entirely new, uncharted territory in the mirror's legacy, and no one knew what to do let alone how any of it worked; but whatever it took to be rid of Hyde once and for all…

Jekyll smiled ruefully, shaking his head. "Thank you for trying," he replied. Hans didn't like that choice of phrase one bit.


	9. Last Straw

Last Straw

Dinner with Hyde had been awkward, to say the least. And spent in utter silence. Hyde had been completely fixated on Jekyll the whole time, not even speaking to or acknowledging Hans and Charles. When dinner was through, Jekyll had shown them out acting like absolutely nothing was out of place. Acting like Hyde wasn't even there. Hyde who had just creepily shadowed Jekyll practically in his footsteps. It had been... unnerving, to say the least. And had royally freaked Charles out the rest of the night. Hans had left his friend's house that evening, determining to stay with Carl for a night or two. He'd seen Jekyll very little since, but at least they'd been able to talk when they _had_ met up, because in those moments Hyde wasn't around. Now he and Kristoff were here, at Hans Orsted's temporary residence, on behalf of Jekyll to try and obtain a solution or some extra help regarding this problem.

"He doesn't know what to do, Hans," Hans said to Orsted.

"This situation is most twisted indeed," Orsted gravely replied. "I'm surprised you've trusted me with this information."

"We don't have a lot of choices left," Kristoff replied. "We're not geniuses like you two. At least not in the same ways. Jekyll's desperate and scared. Our friends Eric and Francis, and Hans' brother Franz, decided to play bodyguard for Edvard and Louise for a bit, and just last night they reported spotting Hyde lingering not far from their home! And he's threatened Louise. Jekyll all but begged Hans to bring the matter up with you. Henry himself barely dares to leave his lab or house anymore."

"You're talking sophisticated suddenly, Kristoff. Britain's changing you," Hans teased, smirking.

Kristoff blinked and grimaced before giving borderline puppy eyes to Hans. "I've gotta get out of here man. This is almost over, right?" he said.

Hans smiled a little sadly. "Yeah… I think it will be soon," he replied. Kristoff winced. Charles. He needed to talk to Hans about that whole complication, he decided. Hans was naturally assuming all the worst things.

"I don't know how I can help you," Orsted replied after listening in amusement to their short bout of banter. "As a chemist I could try to find the impure mixture Jekyll talked about in his letter to his friends, but there's probably none of it left. On top of that I can't even _imagine_ how we'd need to modify a potion as a whole to work on two separate people. It isn't possible. My knowledge of physics would be pretty well useless in this scenario, so that area of expertise is off the table. I could bounce ideas back and forth with Jekyll, I suppose, if he'll lets me read his notes and describes to me what he thinks is going on."

"Even that could be helpful, my friend," Hans replied. "I'll try to get Jekyll to agree to meet you at your house? It might not be comfortable for you to go to his."

"Give me more credit than that, Hans," Hans flatly replied. "I'll go to his house. Odds are he would have the materials we'd need, if we stumble on a potential solution."

"Hyde might come," Kristoff pointed out. Orsted grimaced upon being reminded of that issue. Maybe it _was_ best to meet here.

"Alright," Orsted relented. He wrote down his address, handing it to Hans to give to Jekyll. "I hope this works out, I really do, but I can only picture this ending in pain."

"Thank you, Hans," Hans replied, taking the paper and tucking it away. "I'll deliver this to him and catch him up. He may try and write you or he may come unannounced. You'll need to be ready for potential surprises."

"I'm intrigued by this case. I won't begrudge him the intrusion. Unless it's done at a particularly inconvenient time," Orsted answered.

Hans smiled, nodding. "Goodbye Hans. I'll see you maybe again before I leave. Right now, my friend and I have some bonding to do," he added, standing up with Kristoff.

"Good luck, all of you. Goodbye," Orsted replied, rising and seeing them off. They walked away, and he cringed, looking back into his residence. This Jekyll case was going to prove to be his biggest challenge yet, he felt.

Frozen

Hans and Kristoff walked a couple minutes in silence. "So… how are you and Charles?" Kristoff asked.

"We were great until week four," Hans replied. Now it was into the fifth week.

"Pay rent. That always smooths things over," Kristoff semi-teased.

Hans gave him an unimpressed look. "I plan to, believe me," he replied. "Somehow I doubt that's going to help."

"Why?" Kristoff asked.

"Because his wife is up in arms and making his life hell, plus Hyde… said something. He asked Jekyll if 'the prince' was here and called out 'your highness'. Charles isn't a total fool. I implied they were talking about someone else instead of fessing up, but I see the suspicion in his eyes," Hans replied.

"I told you to tell him earlier," Kristoff said with a sigh.

"Yeah, well I didn't. Newsflash, Kristoff, I'm not great at facing up to stuff or blurting truths, in case that's somehow escaped you," Hans said.

"No kidding," Kristoff wryly replied. "Look, I know you don't believe it, but Charles really likes you as a friend, Hans. Right now there may be some strain, but it'll pass. I think."

"World's best comforter right here, folks," Hans said, grimacing.

"Talk to him, man. He'll hear you out," Kristoff said. "Just be earnest, for one of the rare times in your life."

"Um, ouch," Hans replied, looking offended.

"Truth hurts," Kristoff replied, smiling. "But I can get away with hurting you with the truth because that's what friends can do for one another. Short-term hurt or long-term pain. Short-term hurt is the one I'm taking every time."

Hans grimaced then sighed, looking down. "How's Anna been?" he asked.

"She's good. So's Gerda," Kristoff replied.

"How… descriptive," Hans replied.

Kristoff winced. "Sorry," he replied. "Just figured it might be a little awkward. I mean with you being her ex-fiancé and all."

"You have realized by now that I was just playing her, right?" Hans asked.

"Oh come on Hans, don't pretend you weren't at least a little into her!" Kristoff exclaimed. "I mean, how could you not be? She has this way of drawing people in."

Hans was quiet. He'd never really thought a lot about that before. But he guessed that when he'd first seen her, before he'd known who she was, he'd been… kind of intrigued. He'd never actually met a girl like her before. Then again, he'd never actually met any interested girl at all on the Southern Isles. Mainly because they'd been all vying for the hands of his brothers. As established, a thirteenth prince wasn't exactly a prize to be won. "Okay, she was cute, quirky, sort of intriguing, but I was over it quick. She didn't have what I wanted."

"I mean, you had what _she_ wanted. Despite being the thirteenth prince," Kristoff slightly resentfully said.

"Yeah… And I give her a lot of credit for that. For not just brushing me off because, counting the children of my brothers, I was beyond twentieth in line for the throne," Hans replied. "But she wasn't queen… It was hypocritical of me, I know. Rejected because I wasn't of a high enough stature and then rejecting her in turn because _she_ wasn't of a high enough stature, but that's how it went. Then when I determined Elsa was unobtainable, I plotted to elevate Anna to queen instead of taking her how she was. World of politics is cutthroat. You wouldn't understand."

"Hey now," Kristoff said, frowning.

"Point is Anna's a great girl, and I'd like to know how she's been doing… And if Elsa's said anything to her about me," Hans said.

"She's been pretty tight-lipped regarding Elsa," Kristoff admitted. Hans winced and looked down. Kristoff winced. "So… you're gonna be a daddy soon! Exciting," he lamely said with a grin, trying to change the subject to something less trying for Hans. He only seemed to make it worse.

"Yeah. Great. Except for the possibility my wife isn't going to take me back," Hans flatly said.

"Wow you're down on yourself. Of course she's gonna take you back, Hans!" Kristoff said. "You both just needed some time to cool down. You'll be home soon and with Elsa, and in a few more months that baby's going to pop, and you'll forget all about this rough patch."

"For a whole new one," Hans said.

"You're not going to be your father, Hans," Kristoff said, frowning. "I get you're kind of scared that you might be, but you won't be."

"Yeah, maybe… Any suggestions?" Hans asked.

"Aside from love it for all you're worth?" Kristoff asked. "Feed it, clean up after it, give it lots of affection…"

"So it's basically a pet," Hans said.

Kristoff blinked. "Uh… no. No, not exactly, no," he replied Bad choice of words apparently. "For the first few years the things going to be totally helpless without you. It's going to rely on you and Elsa for everything. That's also a great time to help it start to learn, though. Babies pick up things really, really, really quickly. Like, Anna and me have been speaking to Gerda using like four different languages between us, and she understands what we're saying in all of them even though she can't speak herself yet. They're like little sponges, seriously. Look, the big thing is affection and attention. They thrive off it. Anna hauls that baby around on her hip everywhere she goes, and when she isn't doing it I am."

"Babies can die from loneliness," Hans said, wincing at the thought. Orphanages were notorious for that.

"Yeah. So you don't let that thing down for even a minute unless it's for napping," Kristoff teased. "Which, by the way, will fast become a blessing and a half for you. Your favorite time of the day like, ever." Hans laughed a little at that. Kristoff smiled. "It'll come to you, Hans. Probably mostly naturally."

"For you it did," Hans replied, smile falling a little. "What comes natural to me is… more my father's methods… Self-soothe, let them tough it out solo, let them learn the hard way because it's a fast teacher, things like that. Spartan tactics."

"Okay, so just don't do any of that," Kristoff replied, grimacing a little. "I mean some people argue for self-soothing, but I personally can't even imagine doing the other stuff. You're supposed to protect your children, not let them screw themselves over and hope they survive so they learn not to do it again. That's a parent's big role. Protector and care-giver… Did your dad honestly never do any of that? Ever?"

"Maybe before the mirror… But I was born long after that," Hans replied. He thought back, trying to remember some inkling of something. He remembered the flower he'd tried to give his father once. There had been a brief glimpse, then, at a man and not a monster… Surely there were others? Maybe his father not leaving him in that swamp alone was a glimpse at some semblance of a protector too. There had to be _something_. "There… was once when I was running from my brothers. We were outside in the courtyard. They were chasing me because they wanted to beat me up, I assume, and father and mother were both out there. Maybe because mom was there we were playing a game, actually. I can't remember. Anyway, there was this brick garden box or something out there and I was just running blind, and I tripped and fell head first towards the sharp edge. Probably would have cracked my skull open if I'd hit it forehead first. But right before I crashed down on it I… I felt my father catch me and lift me up. He didn't say anything, just placed me to the side and went on his way. And there was a similar incident with Kelin-Sel and a blazing fire too."

"They're called dad reflexes," Kristoff said, smiling at his friend sympathetically. "They kind of just kick in. I mean, not for everyone, but for a good number of them. Protective instinct is kicked into overdrive and woe to whoever or whatever tries to harm your child."

Hans was quiet. "Dads suck," he remarked bitterly. Kristoff winced, looking away. Great. Hans was now stuck thinking back on his father.

"I don't know about that… I'm pretty sure there are a lot of other people who'd be saying moms suck, not dads," Kristoff replied. "I don't know. Either way I just can't get how a parent can just walk out on their kids. Far as I'm concerned it should be considered a penal crime. We're talking serious prison time."

" _That's_ a thought," Hans mused, seeming to seriously consider this.

Kristoff blinked blankly at him. Ooh… Okay, topic changing time again. Wow this guy was volatile. Like, he'd known Hans was volatile before, but he'd never been quite _this_ attuned to just how passionate and vengeful his friend could get over things. "That kid's going to have a hell of a protector in you," he flatly said. He got the feeling anyone who dared do the child wrong would end up 'disappeared' Southern Isles style if they weren't really, really careful about watching Hans' every move.

Hans seemed to beat him to the punch. "What did you think of the incident between Elsa and me?" he asked Kristoff.

Kristoff was quiet. "I was… scared for you. And for her. Mostly for her baby, though," he said. Hans looked for a moment visibly pained and stricken at the remark. Which meant that it probably hadn't really fully dawned on Hans until just now how close they'd come to possibly doing serious damage to the developing infant. Kristoff needed to act fast before Hans got down on himself for being a bad parent again, though. "But I get why it was so volatile! I mean, if anyone had tried to assassinate Anna? Heads would have rolled, man. Heads would have rolled."

"I mean, who would even try to do that to her?! Elsa and Anna are loved by their people! And the whole kingdom knows she's pregnant now, so who the hell thought they had the right to go off and try to kill her and her baby?! When _I_ was right there no less! What, are they stupid or just blind to what I am and what I'm capable of? I should have slaughtered the scum," Hans said.

Kristoff was quiet. Honestly, given the rumors that had been floated around the prince in the past, probably a good few citizens were disillusioned enough to think it might be a mercy; but he wasn't going to say that out loud. "I get your reaction, I do," Kristoff replied. "But you've got to admit going Southern Isles on Arendelle was… probably not the best judgement call."

"Arendelle is completely incompetent when it comes to hunting down scumbags," Hans stubbornly defended. "Southern Isles methods are an improvement to their hide and seek tactics. There's no time to play games when criminals are running amok."

"There's a such thing as rights, Hans," Kristoff said.

"That creep forfeited any rights when he tried to kill my pregnant wife! And the people forfeited _their_ rights when they kept their mouths shut," Hans said.

"You… should probably think carefully over that statement," Kristoff said.

Hans gave him a look then sighed. "Maybe that's a little harsh," he said. He didn't honestly feel like it was, but when he tried to look at it through the viewpoints of the citizens, he could… kind of get where they'd been coming from.

Kristoff nodded. "We're almost back at Dickens' place," he said. Hans looked hesitant again. "Get it over with, man, seriously," Kristoff said. "I'll even come in with you and wait around while you do it, okay?"

"Yeah. Okay… Thanks Kristoff," Hans replied. Five weeks. Hans knew he'd overstayed his welcome in the Dickens household. Things had been terse and snappy this last week. The stress of Hyde and Jekyll hadn't helped the tension in the slightest and now everyone was at each others' throats, and it was only a matter of time, frankly, before he was turned out. Which was fine, he decided, because he really, really missed Elsa. The moment he was turned out, he would make for Arendelle and hope he was welcome again at this point; so, the worst his confessing to Dickens he was royalty would do was speed up the inevitable. He'd give the guy money and then tell him probably. He'd go to his room and get said money first. If he was kicked out, he could go join up with his brothers.

To say Hans was relieved to learn his siblings were here was an understatement. It made him feel less helpless over the Jekyll situation and had seemed to bring hope to Jekyll as well, now that he knew Louise and Edvard had protection in Franz and Iscawin. Hyde had been less than impressed, fading back into the woodwork for a while and only approaching Jekyll when he was very sure the doctor was alone, not daring to corner himself again like he almost had when Hans and Charles had been at Henry's home and Hyde had foolishly sought them to try and play them when he should have fled.

Frozen

"Make it clear he isn't to stay any longer," Catherine darkly told her husband.

"Is the bony bore leaving finally?" their daughter Kate slightly bitterly asked. The small child had been up in arms and bitter since Hans had refused to play a game with her a week or so back. Charles face-palmed, shaking his head. That was it! He was done. He couldn't fight this anymore. He couldn't take another week of nagging and stress and drama, he couldn't!

So he gave in…

Frozen

Hans glared at the mirror fuming, eyes on fire angrily as he read the words written there.

 _Hans Andersen slept in this room for five weeks – which seemed to the family AGES!_

"Screw him!" he furiously snapped, turning on his heel and storming out to go confront his 'friend'. What, the guy wasn't even man enough to confront him personally?! He had to do it through a message on a mirror, of all ridiculous things?! Charles, sitting in his study sipping tea and reading, jumped about a foot when Hans stormed in. "You scumbag!" Hans snapped at him viciously. "What, you couldn't just talk to me? A message on a mirror, Charles? Really?! How childish can you be?!"

Charles stood quickly, immediately going on the defensive. "No more childish than your insisting on a barber every day and demanding validation and reassurance for every little thing!" he instantly snapped back.

"Hey, sideburns don't come easy," he bitterly half-taunted with an icy smirk. "Be happy I didn't push a certain Danish custom I recall telling you about on your household."

"What about your breaking down and weeping inconsolably on the lawn after receiving a negative book review?!" Charles shot.

"Are you kidding me?! I broke down after reading an old letter from my wife on a particularly stressful day for _all_ of us, especially me! The book review just made it worse, but the letter was the big thing!" Hans retorted.

"Complaining about my country home being too cold!" Dickens said.

"It's too cold, Charles!" Hans shouted. "For god's sake I get chills from it! More than I get in _Arendelle_." With a wife who had ice magic, he inwardly added.

"To say nothing of your mood swings," Charles continued, ignoring the remark.

"You think I like laying in bed listening to your wife and you scream at each other at all ridiculous hours of the morning because someone younger has caught your eye? A teenager no less!" Hans snapped.

"She's eighteen!" Charles defended. Yes, still a teenager, but an old enough one!

"As if Catherine is even _old_! I can't believe I'm saying it, but I'm on her side in this!" Hans continued, ignoring him.

"Screw you Hans!" Charles snapped furiously. "Whenever you get to London you get into wild entanglements of Cabs and Sherry and never seem to get out of them again until you come back here. You cut out paper into all sorts of patterns, gather the strangest little nosegays in the woods, need I even go on?!"

"You know what? Fine! You want me gone, fine! See you never! Here's your stupid money for this stupid visit. Goodbye!" Hans shot, throwing the money down and storming away from his stunned friend. He grabbed the door, opening it up, and looked back. "By the way, your serialisation of _Little Dorrit_ sucks! Who even told you that was a good idea?!" Charles gasped, deeply offended. Hans slammed the door behind him, storming out. Charles scowled, then looked a moment uncertain and guilty, and began to shift uncomfortably before following Hans from a distance.

Frozen

Kristoff jumped when Hans stormed into the parlour, dropping the book he'd been reading in surprise. "Hans?" he said in shock, seeing the prince storming out looking close to tears. "Hans, what happened? Hans!" Kristoff called. Hans totally ignored him, marching out of the house slamming the door behind him. Seconds later Charles was hurrying out looking a cross between concerned, guilty, and relieved. "Charles, what on earth happened?" Kristoff asked.

Charles winced, looking away angrily. "We fought. That's all there is to it," he replied. "Good riddance. I mean, the man speaks French like Peter the Wild Boy and English like the Deaf and Dumb School! He's no better in any other language. He can't pronounce the name of his own book _The Improvisatore_ in Italian, Kristoff! And his translatress, when he used her, implies he can't even speak Danish, his own native tongue, well." Which was actually a complaint he'd sent in a letter to another friend of his, a former Prime Minister, about Andersen… Albeit it was at the close of a really stressful day. And he'd regretted it soon after.

"I know you're not that petty, Charles," Kristoff flatly said. "For one, don't be getting down on him for his atrocious French and Italian. You can't speak Danish for the life of you _despite_ lessons from him, and you sure as hell can't speak Norwegian. For two, I doubt highly you're dumb enough to take the word of a translatress he rejected, whose native tongue isn't even Danish might I add, over his own, whose native tongue _is_. Look, seriously man. What's going on? You've been so good about his stay, then suddenly this? I mean, five weeks is a ridiculous amount of time, yeah, and I totally get how he's probably not the greatest houseguest and probably comes across pretty demanding and entitled…" Came from being royalty, but he couldn't say that out loud because Charles didn't know, "But he planned to pay you! He even offered to stay somewhere else if he was overstaying his welcome."

"He implied first morning he was here that it was a Danish custom for male guests to be shaved by one of the sons of the house," Charles flatly said.

"You were discussing English versus Danish customs. You laughed at the appalled expression your eldest son had on his face!" Kristoff replied. Besides, it was a hella weird Danish custom if it really was one—Hans could have been kidding just to jerk around the kid—and it definitely wasn't one the Southern Isles practiced. Maybe their dad had—the duty would have probably fallen to Hans too, given he was the lowest on the totem—but it had died out in that household pretty fast he was willing to bet. He inwardly grimaced. Possibly because it became a sneaky execution method… Wow that was a dark thought. He probably should stop thinking about the freaky things the Southern Isles had had going on under the old king. Ooh, now he was actually really concerned for his friend. _Had_ Hans killed like that? He did seem to have an aversion to anyone other than himself shaving him, even barbers… Maybe especially barbers… Okay, now he'd just made himself _more_ concerned.

"When he came to watch me in my play _The Frozen Deep_ , he was thoroughly pleased to find out from me that Queen Victoria, in the audience with Prince Albert, was aware of his presence. Then during the afterparty of _my_ play became sulky he wasn't the center of attention," Charles said.

"That's because he's…" Kristoff began before quickly clamping his mouth shut before he let something slip he definitely wasn't supposed to. Wow, he'd come dangerously close to falling into that trap. And it _was_ a trap, given the way Charles was glaring at him with eyes narrowed in intense scrutiny.

Kristoff stayed quiet, not sure where to go from there. "He's. What?" Charles icily asked after a moment.

Kristoff remained quiet. "He's your friend. How about instead of criticizing everything he did then passive aggressively telling him off, you ask him about his reasons for them?" Kristoff replied.

"He _was_ my friend," Dickens replied.

"You had plenty opportunity to address your peeves with each other, but you didn't. That's more _your_ fault than his. He's not a mind reader. Great at reading body language, but you're about as stiff as if you had a board up your butt and have a stiff upper lip like no stiff upper lip I've ever seen, so that was pretty well useless to him. What kind of British custom is _that_? Plus, you're insanely reluctant to say like anything, and he's definitely not great at expressing himself either in situations like this so…" Kristoff said. He shrugged.

"I'm not the man's father, Kristoff! I shouldn't have to take the lead every time," Charles protested. "What, is he incapable of expressing himself first?"

Pretty well, Kristoff inwardly answered, if it wasn't through the written word. Strong front and all that. "Okay, let me be blunt. Suck it up you British fop and go after him! If you're going to call off the friendship, fine, but at least have the decency to apologize for how things turned out," Kristoff said. "You're not happy with how things happened, Charles, I can tell you're not. Stop hiding and go face it." Charles was quiet, head hung. Finally he scoffed and grabbed his coat, storming out of the house to try and figure out where Hans had gone. He couldn't believe he was actually doing this.

Frozen

Elsa stood at the bow of the ship sailing to Britain dressed in common clothing and wearing a bonnet on her head. The less visible she was, the better. To anyone's eye, she was just a regular woman going about her business. And laden with child. But that probably wouldn't draw _too_ much attention, she told herself. Other than maybe some people congratulating her and asking how far along she was, and she could handle that. As long as no one recognized her as the Queen of Arendelle, this would go smoothly. In theory. Anna hadn't been thrilled to be left behind to rule in her absence, she would have loved to come to see Kristoff, but Elsa wanted Anna on the throne while she was gone. It wasn't going to be too long she was away anyway! She'd suggested Soredamer come along, but Soredamer had refused. They'd asked her why, because if the knights had gone anywhere it would probably be back to Britain, and she'd been unsettlingly vague. Something about wanting to be sure no one else had come up too, which was cryptic at the best of times and incredibly unsettling. Anna, in Elsa's absence, would try to weed more information out of the woman about what she'd meant.

The harbor was coming up. Elsa smoothed her dress a little nervously. She'd never been anywhere out of Arendelle totally alone before… Anna had always been there, or Hans, or Hans' brothers. The mountain didn't count, she'd still been in Arendelle then. Suffice it to say, her nerves were all over the place. Plus, now she didn't have the defense of status or being a queen. _That_ would have garnered her protection. Unneeded, yes, but she wasn't exactly inclined to show off her gift in the middle of Britain. Take the panic that had ensued in Arendelle and times it by like a thousand, and that's what she'd be dealing with if she did. It wouldn't be pretty. She didn't need that kind of strain or drama or panic. So even if she'd come as a queen, she would have had to play normal everyday queen, not enchanted superpowered queen. She hadn't come as a queen, she'd come as common middle class, so she was especially without protection right now, and especially vulnerable with the pregnancy in play.

The ship soon docked. Elsa drew a breath to calm her nerves then began to disembark with the rest of the passengers on the ship, handbag in hand. Wow. The ladies in this city dressed very well, she noted. At least the richer ones. She felt a little inadequate. They had such splendid hats and gowns. She had a bonnet and a regular dress. It was a nice dress, upper middle class probably, but not as nice as some of the ones she was seeing. She might have to do a bit of shopping here. London was one of those places that were peaks of high fashion, she knew. London, Paris, somewhere in Italy probably, probably Madrid in Spain too. She wasn't big on shopping at all, but this was a pretty tempting opportunity. First things first, though, try to figure out where Hans was. Her one lead was the newspaper clipping of him and this 'Sophie Orsted', the Danish scientist's daughter. She could probably ask anyone here and they'd know where that man's house was. He and his daughter seemed to be the talk of the town this last week or two since the attempted murder.

She felt her baby starting to act up and winced in slight pain, draping her arm over her stomach. "Not now, little one, please," she pled. It seemed the child was going for the heated defense, so at least her ice powers could help sooth the pain a little. Soon enough it settled and she let out a soft breath, keeping her hand on the pronounced bump for a moment with a soft smile pulling at her lips. She removed her hand from it and continued towards a policeman. "Excuse me, sir," she said.

The man turned, curious, and smiled at her. "Yes Ma'am?" he said. He observed her condition and frowned in slight concern, which he was swift to mask. It seemed the police here were on edge. Probably because of Hyde and his little stint of terror, so she completely understood why the man seemed so concerned about a pregnant woman walking alone through a large city that was currently hosting a killer who didn't seem to have any form of conscience and thus wouldn't be dissuaded from attempted murder because a potential victim happened to be with child. Hyde seemed to have no qualms about attempting to murder children either, as the latest almost-victim had been a preteen boy who'd gotten away through sheer luck, it would seem. A police officer had been happening close by walking along a route he wasn't actually supposed to take and had mistakenly walked.

"Do you know where I can find the Danish Chemist Hans Orsted?" she asked.

"I do," he replied. "I shall accompany you there if you'd like."

"I would be grateful, officer," she replied. Better safe than sorry.

He nodded and led the way. She walked at his side, looking around at the city. "You have an accent. What kind?" he asked.

"Norwegian Swedish blend," she replied. "Things seem… very tense here."

"A madman on the loose, I'm afraid, who will attack anyone who happens to be caught alone by him, be it man, woman, or child. Quite opportunistic, he is. I must confess I'm not at all comfortable with your walking this city alone in your condition." In fact, _he_ was hardly comfortable walking his regular beat alone without backup. "Don't you have a husband or friend or someone to walk with?"

"A husband," she replied. "But he's unavailable right now, gone off on some business. And my friends are all back home in Arendelle."

"The land of the witch queen?" the policeman asked in wonder.

Elsa inwardly winced. "Queen Elsa is hardly a witch, officer," she replied. "She has a unique ability, but she's a good queen, fair with her people and kind and not at all any sort of witch or monster. We adore her." She didn't particularly like tooting her own horn, but in her defense, she wasn't saying anything she hadn't already heard from her citizens.

"Apologies madam, no offense meant," the officer replied. "The stories are admittedly quite intriguing." They walked in silence for a while more. "Ah, here we are. The temporary residence of Hans Christian Orsted," he said finally, stopping outside a home. Shall I wait for you, madam?"

Elsa hesitated a moment, thinking it over. She seriously considered accepting, but then determined she should be alright from here. She was in contact with Hans' contacts now. "No thank you, officer. I shall be fine on my own now," she replied with a smile.

"My lady," the man answered, bowing to her and leaving.

Frozen

Elsa watched him go then turned to the door, knocking on it. She waited a moment then knocked again. She heard footsteps approaching. Someone came to the door and assumedly peeked out a peephole. After a moment she heard locks unlocking and the door was opened to a pretty young woman she recognized too well from the pictures in the papers. "Miss Sophie Orsted?" she asked.

"Yes?" the woman cautiously replied.

"I'm looking for your father, Hans Christian Orsted. I'd like to speak to him. I have a question I think he would be able to answer for me," she replied.

"And what question would that be?" the girl, Sophie asked.

"W-well, I think he is acquainted with my… friend," she answered. She wasn't sure what tales Hans had spun in this place, but she was willing to bet there had definitely been tales spun because Hans has issues. A personal peeve of hers regarding him.

"Your friend?" the woman asked.

Elsa hesitated. "Hans Christian Andersen," she replied.

Sophie blinked blankly at her, then looked at her baby bump. A frown seemed to pull at the woman's lips. "Your 'friend' is he?" she dryly asked.

Elsa flushed, feeling slightly shamed upon realizing what the woman must be suspecting. "My husband," she amended, frowning firmly and crossing her arms, flashing her wedding ring briefly. "But I suppose he keeps as much under the radar. He doesn't like to share personal information, and what information he shares is often made up for his own protection and mine."

The woman seemed startled and opened the door, wordlessly allowing Elsa entrance. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Andersen, but things have been… terse, as of late. This whole business with a serial killer who seems to constantly connect himself to Hans' little group of friends. Everyone involved in the matter has been especially on guard as of late, my father among them. Understand my reluctance to cooperate with anyone asking for any member of your husband's little party."

"It's alright," Elsa replied.

"I'll fetch my father. Err, your name was…?" she fished.

Elsa was quiet. Should she give her real one, she wondered? Maybe, just to be safe, she shouldn't. "It's… Riborg. Riborg Voight, um, Andersen."

Sophie nodded then went to fetch her father. In a few moments a man came down, perhaps around Jekyll's age thereabouts. "Mrs. Andersen?" he said.

"Mr. Orsted," she replied, nodding to him. "I've come enquiring about the whereabouts of my husband. He came to Britain to vacation a while, but all this news of a serial killer lately… needless to say, I'm worried about him and should like to meet up with him. I was reading in the papers about… the rescue of your daughter."

"And about the speculations of her and his relationship, no doubt. They're false, my dear, you needn't worry about that," the man said, eying her baby bump in understanding. Well, what he thought was understanding.

"I've never questioned my husband's loyalty to me. It's this killer that has me worried. In case it wasn't obvious, the idea of raising our child without him is… painful, to say the least," she said. "I should very much _like_ my baby to know his or her father."

The man smirked in slight amusement and nodded his understanding. "He stays with his friend, the author Charles Dickens. He also regularly sojourns to meet Dr. Henry Jekyll, who has enlisted my help in solving his little… problem."

"Hyde," Elsa said. "I'm not out of the loop. We've… run afoul of him before. In Arendelle."

"Ah… So then you… know. About Jekyll's predicament," Orsted said.

"All too well," Elsa replied, grimacing. "Are Louise and Edvard alright?" The name drops seemed to get him off of the eggshells he seemed to be dancing on.

"So far. But Hyde knows where they live and has less than pleasant plans for Louise, so Jekyll is up in arms as well as the other young may vying for her affections, Hans' brother Franz," Orsted said.

"Franz is here?" she asked in surprise.

"And Iscawin. They came after hearing about your… falling out with your husband. Yes, I know of it though not in detail. No, I won't judge either way," the man replied.

Elsa winced. She supposed she shouldn't be surprised his friends had heard of it. If _she'd_ had friends, they would have too. Anna and Soredamer both knew, she supposed, and most of the people in the castle. "Do you know where Dickens lives?" Elsa asked.

"No, but I know where Jekyll lives," Orsted replied. "I had to meet up with him anyway. Ideally, he would have come here, but Hans… hasn't seemed to have passed on my information to him yet. Which means he probably got sidetracked somewhere."

Elsa was quiet, looking a bit concerned. "Alright. Can you take me to the doctor then? I could use an examination anyway," she said, smirking ruefully and laying a hand on her stomach.

Orsted chuckled and nodded, grabbing his hat and coat and throwing them on. "Sophie, I'm going to bring our guest to the home of Dr. Jekyll! Don't wait up dear. I may be there all night."

Sophie came out, looking visibly worried. "But you _will_ come home, papa?" she said.

"I will," he answered, giving her a reassuring but understanding look. "There's no need to fear for me, Sophie." She looked not entirely convinced but did seem to let it go with a nod. Hans Orsted nodded back and left with Elsa.


	10. Capture (Revised)

Capture

( **Fun fact:** Elsa's pseudonym of Riborg Voigt is taken from one of H.C. Andersen's love interests; a love from his youth who he seemingly never stopped loving despite supposedly falling in love with others after her. A letter was discovered written from Andersen to Riborg's brother Christian - expect references in future - that indicated he never stopped loving her even after her marriage to another man. It was written when he was around 27. He told her brother to burn the letter after he read it, but he didn't. Also, apparently Andersen's body was found clutching a pouch he always wore around his neck that contained an old letter from her. And it seems he wasn't alone in his infatuation. Riborg Voigt inspired a number of his poems of his. When she died, it seems the poems he wrote for her, along with a bouquet and a picture of him, were found in a hidden compartment of her drawer.)

Anna watched blankly as Soredamer wandered all about the palace touching every little thing that seemed unfamiliar to her. Which was a surprising number of things, Anna didn't hesitate to say. The woman had jumped about a foot in the air with a scream when the grandfather clock had chimed. She seemed absolutely taken with the music box, though at first extraordinarily puzzled by it. She'd never seen a bicycle, she'd never seen a number of medical instruments they had lying around, she'd never seen any modern firearm at all. That was just to start. It was fascinating to watch her go about totally lost as to what half the stuff here was. Anna just followed her around when she wasn't busy holding court or covering other duties of Elsa's.

"So… you were saying you wanted to be sure no one else had come up with you? What's the deal with that? I mean, the more knights the better, right?" Anna asked.

Soredamer paused, hesitating a moment. "I… wasn't talking about knights," she replied.

"Oh?" Anna asked innocently.

"It's not important," Soredamer said. "Not to you." The one she worried might have followed her up had no vendetta against anyone here anyway.

"If it's not important, why can't you tell me?" Anna asked.

Soredamer frowned a little, then sighed. "I was… briefly concerned that maybe my mother or… or aunt had followed me up. But they'd have no reason to because Arthur isn't here anymore, so there's no reason for them to try and manipulate Mordred. They have no vendetta against anyone here. But I learned long, long ago to always be wary of them. Just in case. Like I said, no vendetta, no reason for trying to infiltrate my baby brother's mind. And Mordred's safe from them. Which means he might have a chance."

"But it wasn't all them back then, was it?" Anna asked.

"Not… totally," Soredamer admitted. "But it didn't have to be." She sighed, drawing her fingers through her hair. "Mordred isn't normal, Anna. He was a child born of an incestuous relationship so he was already not totally right in the head, but on top of that he had some other things happening up there, and then our mother was mentally abusive and focused her attention on him, and she was manipulative and had an understanding of magic not as great as Morgan's but enough to serve her purpose, and it was just… It wasn't healthy, to put it mildly. She tormented him. Not even in sleep could he escape her. If he wasn't already doomed by the time she was murdered, he was doomed when Morgan got her hooks into him. And if even then there was an inkling of hope for him, it disappeared in the wake of the mass tragedy that followed not long after. But Morgause and Morgan were his biggest hurdles I think, so if Morgause isn't here and Morgan isn't here, he has a much better chance I hope."

"Not if his mental illness is something severe. He might have a better chance, but not by _that_ much," Anna said. Soredamer winced. Anna shifted. She would under normal circumstances suggest Dr. Jekyll to the woman as a potential help for her brother, maybe the man could even diagnose what was going on with the child, but this _wasn't_ a normal circumstance and the closer Mordred got to Hans, or Hans' contacts, the more danger her brother-in-law would be in. "Are you sure neither Morgause or Morgan came too?" she asked, trying to make it less awkward.

"Even if Morgan came, as far as I understood it she made peace with Arthur before his 'death'," Soredamer replied. "I can't see her going out of her way to screw up Mordred again for any reason other than Arthur, and now Arthur isn't a factor anymore. But then I've been wrong before. I'd still prefer her over Morgause in this particular situation. I've seen, heard, and sensed no inkling of my mother following me up, but I'll still be on the lookout. Especially here. If the knights have Mordred contained in Britain, no one's in Arendelle or near the Southern Isles to make sure our eternal enemies haven't come back. I'm all there is, the one barrier that would potentially keep Morgause and Morgan from finding Mordred again or reaching him. I low-key hope maybe more of Queen Gueneviere's Dames showed up, maybe even Gwen herself, but I highly doubt it."

"Oh my gosh, Guinevere had an order too?! The stories never mention that!" Anna excitedly squealed.

"We were more underground than King Arthur's Knights," Soredamer replied, smirking in amusement. "And we didn't want the attention besides. Too much of a hassle. The knights were happy to be the veneer while we were happy to stay hidden and secret. But if they failed, _we_ finished what they started."

"That's so awesome!" Anna exclaimed. She heard Gerda start to cry and gasped, looking over in concern.

Soredamer smiled gently at her. "Go take care of that," she said. "I'll come with you. It's been too long since I saw an infant."

"Was your son one of the Knights of the Round Table?" Anna asked.

"Yes," she replied quietly, but she didn't offer further information. Anna didn't press in case it brought back bad, bad memories… In case Soredamer had outlived her child and husband both…

Frozen

The sky was darkening by the time Hans Orsted and Elsa arrived in front of Dr. Jekyll's building. "It seems we've arrived just in time," Orsted said, looking uneasily around at the darkening streets. "I hope Hyde hasn't determined to present himself today." Elsa winced at the possibility of that and looked cautiously around too. Orsted approached the door and knocked.

Soon someone came to the door, peering out. The door opened when they were deemed not a threat. "May I help you?" the man standing there asked.

"Is Dr. Jekyll in? Hans Orsted and Mrs. Andersen would like to see him," Orsted said.

"He is in, sir. I will go fetch my master," the man replied. He gestured for them to enter and they did so. The butler shut and locked the door tightly with multiple locks behind them. The two grimaced, exchanging looks. The butler walked away from them with a weary but friendly smile, pointing them towards the parlour. They went into it to wait.

In not too long, Jekyll entered the room to greet them. "Elsa," he greeted Elsa, bowing to her.

"Elsa?" Orsted asked.

"That's my real name, yes," Elsa replied. "Elsa Riborg Voigt Andersen." Riborg and Voigt had been two middle names she preferred never to acknowledge.

"What on earth do you think you're doing here?" Jekyll demanded with a stern frown. "Travelling in your condition is a horrible idea!"

"It was a simple trip," Elsa replied. "Although an examination would be welcome, if you had the time. But that's not why I'm here. I'm… I'm searching for Hans."

"I had guessed," Jekyll replied, sounding more sympathetic now. "Then news has reached you of the violence occurring in this city." Elsa nodded. "I suppose you've decided he's been exiled long enough," Jekyll said. He sighed and glanced at Orsted. "I'm glad you came, Hans," he murmured to the man.

"Hans was supposed to deliver you my information. I assumed he had become sidetracked when you didn't show up, so I determined to come see you in person despite the risk," Orsted replied.

"Much thanks," Jekyll answered. "You have no idea how relieved I am you did."

"I can only imagine," Orsted replied.

Jekyll turned back to Elsa. "Hans is well," he said. "I expect him tomorrow in fact, if not later tonight. We had a plan for brunch. He'll be utterly thrilled to see you."

"He won't be for long," Elsa replied, folding her arms. "He's been keeping things from me. Serious things."

"Oh? Such as?" Jekyll asked.

"Ask him. It's a complicated story and he knows the details better than I do. I just know he's going to get an earful for this audacity," Elsa said.

Jekyll nodded. "Come, Elsa. Let's check up on you," he said. He turned to Orsted. "If you would like to see my lab and notes, Orsted, it's out back in the outbuilding. Here's the key."

"I'll get a start then," Orsted said, taking it and nodding gratefully. Jekyll offered an arm to Elsa. Elsa took it and Jekyll led her to his examining room.

"You look exhausted, Henry," she murmured sympathetically.

He winced. "Exhausted is putting it mildly," he replied. She didn't press further.

Frozen

Hans, fuming and saddened and hurt, stormed his way along the streets angrily. The sky was darkening so he should be more concerned than he was, he supposed, but he was beyond caring at this point. "Hans!" a voice called. He grimaced. Charles. He sped up. "Hans, for god's sake stop!" Charles insisted.

"Go back to your wife!" Hans snapped.

"Oh believe me I intend to, but not until I've spoken to you," he insisted.

"What more do you want to say, Charles?" Hans demanded, turning angrily on him.

"An apology. I'm sorry for the way things left off, I'm sorry for the message on the mirror," he answered. "It was unfair and out of line and I should have spoken to you in person. I wish things had ended on a better note than this."

"What went wrong, Charles? Just tell me that," Hans said.

Charles was quiet. "You came at a very bad time for me," he said. "I never told you as much, but you did. I'm in the process of deciding whether to divorce my wife, I had the stress of practicing for my play, and _Little Dorrit_ isn't panning out the way I'd hoped, so my stress was already through the roof. Then you arrived and I thought it would be a nice break, relaxing in fact, but instead all _this_ happened plus Catherine's animosity, and the stress only mounted and I guess… I guess I just cracked…"

"I gave you opportunities to accept my offer to leave, Charles. What's your excuse for that?" Hans demanded.

"I thought I could handle it, I really did! I thought it would all be resolved so much sooner but it just went on and on and… I have no excuse for you, Hans. I cracked. That's all. And I wish it didn't feel so relieving that you're going, I really, really wish it didn't because at the start I so enjoyed your company, but it does," Charles said. He still enjoyed the man's company, if he were to be totally honest with himself. Or rather he felt like maybe he could start to again… Just not right now… Or for a while… Taking a break in a friendship instead of a relationship, he joked dryly to himself. "You have to admit you were somewhat insufferable!"

" _Insufferable_?! What about _you_?!" Hans demanded. "You were a total…"

"Well, well, well," a new voice broke in darkly and gruffly, rough sounding. "It seems this beautiful, budding little friendship of yours is on the rocks. Not that I'm complaining. It gave me the opportunity to get more than close enough to do what needed to be done."

The two men started, whirling with gasps, and cried out in agony as the man who spoke jabbed two lengthy needles into their necks, injecting the contents! With little more than groans or gasps, the two men collapsed to the ground motionless!

Frozen

The first one to awaken was Hans. His eyes began to flicker and he winced in pain, feeling sick and heavy. He groaned and tried to move only to find he couldn't! He caught his breath, jerking awake. He realized immediately he was bound to a chair he assumed, and gagged. He began trying to struggle only to hear someone whimper behind him, stirring a little. He froze, trying to figure it out, and paled. Charles. He heard his ex-friend—he assumed?—make a sound of dismay through his own gag and start to frantically struggle to get loose. Hans felt around and took his hand firmly, squeezing it to let him know he wasn't alone here. Charles froze and seemed to relax ever so slightly, but he was shaking Hans felt. Hans tried to figure out where they were but couldn't. It was somewhere dark, damp, musty, and overall unpleasant, to say the least. And they seemed alone, but he doubted they'd be for long.

Sure enough, a tapping cane could soon be heard. They both looked over and saw a man emerge from the dark, a cruel smirk on his face. Mr. Edward Hyde! They stared in silence at him, visibly shocked. Charles let out a muffled sound of fear and dismay. Even Hans could feel his breathing speed up slightly. He looked quickly away…

 _He felt the darkness permeating into him… He felt himself trying to reflect it…_

"A brilliant plan, I think. Ensure the fire prince cannot escape because to try would mean roasting his little friend alive," Hyde said. Hans winced, feeling Charles start. Hyde seemed no notice the shock on the man's face too… "Why, Prince Hans—King-consort rather I believe—you didn't tell your prudish little friend what you were? Tsk, tsk, tsk. Oops." Hans was utterly still. "Try to burn your way out, fire king of Arendelle," he challenged again. Hans tensed up and refused. Hyde was right. Should he try to burn his way out, he would kill Charles… "Perhaps I should remove the gags after all. You two have something new to argue about it seems.

He approached them. Hans resisted the urge to turn and face him. And the urge to combust into flame to try and roast him. Hyde seized the gags on both their mouths, pulling them down, then turned to leave cackling. "What was your purpose in this, Hyde? To fluster Jekyll?" Charles demanded, thinking fast and trying to stall the man.

"Precisely," Hyde replied. "And now I'm onto your royal friend's brother. And onto that sweet girl Louise."

"You won't take Franz," Hans bitterly and icily said. In fact he was quite sure Hyde had no actual idea of what he was doing or what he wanted to do. Disorganized, chaotic... acting instead of planning. Feeling them all out...

"No. But I won't have to. I just need _her_ ," Hyde replied. "He'll let me have him then, I think." With that the man swooped out, leaving his prisoners utterly alone.

For a long time, there was utter silence. "You're a Prince?" Charles finally said, voice breaking slightly and sounding strained… And hurt… Hans winced and hung his head low. "I suppose that explains why you were so insulted you weren't the center of the queen's attention after my play." His voice broke in pain at the word 'play', and he went silent.

Hans was quiet. "I'm a king. King consort, more precisely. Married to the Queen of Arendelle. Elsa," he said.

"The witch! Oh, this gets better and better. And apparently _you're_ a witch too!" Charles said.

"Call me whatever name you want, but you keep Elsa out of this. The last thing she is, is any kind of witch," he answered. "And for your information the reason I was offended at the lack of attention shown me is because Queen Victoria has serious, serious issues with me for reasons. She knew full well who I was and that my wife and I have needed to speak to her a while now, and kept pointedly turning her back on me when I tried to get her to look my way so we could discuss tensions like grown adults."

There was silence again. "Why didn't you tell me?" Charles whispered.

"Do you honestly have to ask?" Hans asked quietly.

"I accepted Carl, did I not?" he replied.

"Barely. And then only because of his connection to me," Hans replied. "Don't play stupid, Charles, you know full well why I never told you and couldn't… But I meant to… I promise you I meant to… That was what I was going to tell you before I found that message on the mirror. I was going to pay you money for letting me stay so long, and I was going to tell you what I was. I'm not going to try to give excuses for my silence. My only excuse is fear. I… I didn't want to lose your friendship…"

"You lost it anyway," Charles hissed.

Hans winced and was quiet, hanging his head lower and feeling absolutely miserable. "I know," he murmured sadly.

Silence once more. "I suppose at least people will say of me I died alongside Hans Christian Andersen," Charles lamely tried to joke.

"And I alongside Charles Dickens," Hans replied smirking ever so slightly, albeit still miserably and guiltily.

"What an odd story this will all make," Charles said. "I mean, what are the chances after all? That two of the greatest literary minds in history would have been kidnapped together and killed together by one of history's most infamous and prolific serial killers?"

"No guarantee of that yet," Hans dryly said.

"He will be when _this_ hits the papers," Charles replied. Hans couldn't help but dryly chuckle at this. The man made a point.

Hans' smile fell. "I never wanted you to be dragged into this. Know that," he said.

"I know," Charles replied. "Astounding given what you are." Hans didn't snap at the bait. "You're not going to get yourself out of here," Charles more stated than asked, though he sounded amazed.

"The cost would be too high," Hans replied. "My… once friend's life. The life of a father with enough children to rival the high birth rate of the Westergaards, which is my real last name. I could never bring myself to harm _you_ let alone orphan your children and leave your wife a widow. Though I suppose Catherine won't be around much longer should you decide to leave her after all for that teenager."

"I'm not going to fight with you Hans. Not now," Charles exhaustedly said. Hans nodded and kept quiet lest they start up again. "We have to get out of here. We can't wait for rescue."

"With two of my brothers on the case? Yes, we can," Hans replied.

"If Hyde grabs Louise, there may be _no_ one on the case," Charles said. Hans winced. _That_ he couldn't argue. Especially if his brothers didn't realize he was missing before then.

Frozen

Franz and Louise lay next to each other on the banks of a river huddled close, staring up at the stars. "It all sounds simply wondrous. Tales of knights and lost kingdoms… You never told me before in such detail all that happened in the underworld," she said to him.

"I can't fathom why not," he answered, smiling gently.

"How's Recuerda?" she asked him in concern.

"The baby is fine, darling," he replied. "He's under the care of the nursemaid Nancy who is also caring for Lars' child. I miss him, though, and hope to return to him soon.

"He's the most precious little thing," she replied. "I miss him as well. You should have brought the little darling along. I would have doted upon him so."

"He misses you I think," Franz teased, grinning at her. "Upon waking he always seems to look around, and curls his little feet as if expecting you to blow on them as you liked to do when he first woke up. Then he fusses a little but food makes it better. I don't expect that sweet little quirk of his will last overlong. A baby has not developed memories like you and I, but still."

She giggled softly. "When next I come, I will kiss his plump little cheeks and blow on his feet until he cannot stop laughing," she said. "Next you visit here, I expect you to bring him," she 'sternly' added. "Why did you not this time?"

Franz was quiet. "Can you forgive me some secrets, my love? It is a story too risky to tell when it is only fledgling. Suffice to say the trip was too… unpredictable for me to want to take him along. Sea voyages aren't safe to start," he replied.

"He needs a mother I think," she murmured to him softly, rolling over so she was laying on him.

"I should like to give him one, but the one I would like for him right now seems of two hearts instead of one, and that's hardly sporting," Franz replied, holding her arms gently and rubbing them. "I could ask you to marry me right now and what would you say? 'But I have not yet decided! Spare me such a choice, prince of the Southern Isles!'"

"You've been reading your brother's stories," she said with a smile, tapping his nose with a finger. "That was very Hans Christian Andersen type dialogue."

"The runt rubbed off on me," Franz replied, smiling up at her thumbing her arms. "Oh Louise, you torment us so. I wish you would decide."

She smiled. "Perhaps I shall. After all, I would answer with the same words to Jekyll should he propose to me, after all."

"Jekyll is a Prince of the Southern Isles?" Franz teased.

She giggled, slapping his chest playfully and rolling off of him to stare up at the sky again. "Just when I feel I may have decided, the other of you comes in and complicates it all again," she ruefully said, draping her arm over his chest. "When with him you seem too childish, when with you he seems too old. When with him you seem too wild, when with you he seems too boring."

"Then say we are neither of us any of those things. We are opposites, is all, and he will have some traits you desire and I will have some traits you desire. Tell me, Louise, what your perfect blend would be," Franz said.

"Your youth his sophistication, your suave his decorum, your fun-loving his protective caution, your vitality his brains," she replied.

"I have brains!" Franz protested with a frown.

"But not so much as he," she teased. "I wonder which it more useful, a doctor or a defender. One could heal me should I be harmed badly, the other may not see me come to injury in the _first_ place."

"I could have sophistication and decorum and caution," he said. "Jekyll can't stop being a bore though."

Louise giggled affectionately at him. "It should be you who is Jekyll's other half, I think," she said.

"You wound me, my lady," a new voice said. Louise gasped in fear. Franz was up in a second, whipping around with sword drawn. There, standing near at hand, was none other than Hyde!

Frozen

"Hyde!" Franz furiously shot, scowling and preparing to fight if need be.

"You would have me replaced with this whelp? How utterly insulting," Hyde continued like he didn't register Franz at all. "Jekyll is mine. I will not share him with the likes of _this_ debauched dodger."

"We're leaving. Now," Franz said, taking Louise's hand firmly and keeping himself between her and Hyde, starting to move away from the man while keeping a close eye on him.

"Before you go, prince, I have something for you," Hyde said.

"You have nothing I want," Franz sneered

 _…_ _And then Hyde withdrew from a pocket the pouch Hans had taken to always wearing about his neck since Cumberland…_

Franz's eyes widened on seeing the blood staining it. Louise gave a dismayed cry, covering her mouth and staring at it with eyes wide as Hyde dangled it by the string in front of Franz's eyes. Franz followed the swaying numbly, not quite able to make himself process this. "I have _everything_ you want," Hyde said. He looked over at Louise and smirked. "Well, almost everything."

For a moment there was silence. Then Franz tried to lunge with a furious shout. Louise held him desperately back in case that was exactly what Hyde wanted the prince to do. Franz seemed to realize the same soon enough and stopped struggling to pull free, instead scowling murderously at Hyde with eyes flashing in hatred. "What have you done with Hans?" Louise asked, voice wavering a little as she clutched Franz's hand in her own tightly. "Is he… is he _alive_?" She felt Franz shudder at her words.

"You won't know until you find him, will you?" Hyde replied. "But you won't. Nor will you be able to follow me to him, I must inform you. In fact, at the moment you're quite helpless, I think. Of course, I would trade your brother and his author friend for the girl…"

"Damn you, you miserable, wretched creature!" Franz shouted. "You won't touch her!"

"I could experiment with your brother, I suppose," Hyde remarked. Franz visibly deflated, and Louise felt another shudder. And how powerless Franz suddenly looked… There was story behind this, she sensed, and she felt in her heart it wasn't one she wanted to know about.

"Franz?" she gently questioned. Whatever story there was to tell, Hyde's dialogue had triggered it full force… She'd never seen the prince look this helpless before… Franz was silent.

"No bargaining yourself?" Hyde asked.

"If I thought you would accept, I would," Franz replied hollowly.

"Would you bargain Jekyll?" Hyde tempted. Louise caught her breath. Franz's utter silence was less than reassuring…

"Once upon a time I would have," Franz finally answered. He perhaps would have even to this day, were Louise not here. That wasn't something he wanted to discover about himself ever, though… _Ever_. "But I will not play into your hands."

"Then your brother will pay the price for it," Hyde replied. Franz suddenly noticed something behind Hyde and started, perking instantly up. Louise's eyes widened as she too saw. Iscawin! He was sneaking up behind Hyde with a… Louise blanched. With a length of rope… And he looked so very, very dark, and very, very wicked. More than she had ever seen him before… She saw the Southern Isles in him… She sensed it growing in Franz too, and that… that frightened her… But then perhaps if it had been Edvard that Hyde had been threatening to, err, 'experiment' with, she might look just the same were she in the position Iscawin was! She somehow doubted it though... Iscawin wore the look of well-practiced killer...

Suddenly Iscawin made his move, lunging and throwing the rope around Hyde's neck, twisting it and pulling with all his strength. Had it been twine, she half-expected the man would have decapitated Hyde. She heard Franz darkly begin to chuckle… She sensed the satisfied smirk parting his lips. "You should go home, Louise," he murmured to her, and his tone chilled her. The prince pulled away, approaching Hyde unhurriedly as Iscawin commenced to strangling him. Then they began to speak in Danish, and Louise knew in her heart she never wanted the words translated to her…

Frozen

"You're out of practice, boy," Franz said in Danish. "Such force should have internally decapitated him. Or at lest crushed his throat. Yet here he is, struggling still when he should have been dead in seconds. Were you really taught so poorly in this method?"

"Something stays such a fate from him, I feel," Iscawin answered in annoyance, grunting as he struggled with Hyde. "But be it fae magic or the power of the mirror, it won't protect him long!"

"Hold him steady and let me speed up the process," Franz replied, drawing his sword and picking up the pace, fully intending to skewer Hyde like pig or shove the sword up his backside and through his body Count Vlad Dracul style.

"Franz, Iscawin, what if you can't find your brother after he dies?!" Louise cried out suddenly. The two princes and the strangling and flailing Hyde all looked back at her in surprise. "Who will keep Hans and Charles alive should you murder the monster?" At least she assumed it was Charles with Hans, given Hyde's mention of Hans' 'author friend'.

"We'll find him with or without Hyde. This time that argument doesn't stand," Iscawin replied finally. He looked to Franz, switching again to Danish. "Fillet him."

"I was thinking Viking style," Franz answered.

"Ooh, lungs and ribs out the back? I can get behind that," Iscawin said. Suddenly Hyde let out a scream and Iscawin gasped and cried out as the man suddenly vanished into thin air, leaving the rope wrapped around nothing! He, Franz, and Louise gawked in shock and horror. Oh no…

"Carabis," Franz hoarsely whispered after finding his voice again.

Frozen

Hyde lay on his back on the ground gasping for air like a fish, struggling to take any in and fairly certain his windpipe was now partially crushed. He had little doubt he would have been dead if something hadn't been watching… He couldn't say he was surprised about the rescue, like he wouldn't be surprised to see who it was.

"Still so certain you can do this alone?" a condescending voice asked. Hyde inwardly praised himself for his correct guess. For upwards of five minutes he didn't reply. Then Carabis got tired of waiting and cast a sort of healing spell on him, he assumed. Upon finding wind and a voice again, Hyde slowly and shakily got to hands and knees, coughing violently. He staggered to his feet, took his top hat, brushed it off, then put it on his head again before walking away without replying. "Ungrateful mortal!" the furious fae roared behind him.

"I will not be a faery whore!" Hyde snarled viciously back. "You have my thanks for the rescue, but do not interfere again."

"I am your master!" Carabis roared.

"And yet you control me not! But it seems the mirror and its shards control _you_ …" Hyde replied. "They consume your mind, you obsess over them and their return, and so you are not in control and you are not their master. Just as you are not the master of the great bear. It appears you're more a slave than any of us." With that he left, firmly rejecting Carabis once more.

Frozen

Franz had kept Louise close against him all the way back to her and Edvard's home, eyes darting down every alley and at any stranger. He had then stationed himself there to play guardsman. Iscawin had gone solo to find Jekyll, which was a risk but he played it safe and got a cab giving strict instructions to the driver not to pick up anyone else along his way. The man didn't ask questions, which meant it wasn't the first time he'd heard such a demand. Very likely, because of the threat of Hyde, more and more people had been asking him the same. They arrived at Jekyll's house in short order. Iscawin disembarked and marched quickly to the door, now very much afraid for his brother. He had to inform Jekyll. Maybe Jekyll would know where Hyde had holed up…

Jekyll finished examining Elsa. "You seem healthy and the baby seems healthy. I can find nothing out of the ordinary, your majesty," he said.

"Thank you, Henry," she replied. "I guess now you're going out to join Mr. Orsted?" she said. Jekyll nodded. "Do you think you and he can find a solution?" she asked.

"I hope so, but I don't know," he answered ruefully, shaking his head. "Perhaps it would have been better to have never separated him at all…"

"How about you not draw that conclusion. Maybe between you and Orsted, you can develop a potion that'll give you a mental link to Hyde so that you can control _him_ but he can't control you," Elsa said.

"I hope a good outcome is what comes of it… But if it doesn't…" Jekyll said. He trailed off, shaking his head. "At least within _me_ he was only Hyde part time. And Jekyll was always there to try and stop him."

"Keep your freedom, doctor. Work on a way to instead kill _him_ off once and for all," Elsa said, frowning in concern.

Jekyll nodded his head. "I certainly intend to try," he answered.

There was a knock on the door then. Jekyll frowned and went to peep through the peephole. He started on seeing who it was and immediately opened the door. "Prince Iscwin!" he exclaimed.

"Henry, Hyde has Charles and Hans!" Iscawin blurted immediately. Jekyll felt a chill shoot up and down his back. Iscawin looked passed him and spotted Elsa—the _last_ person he would have wanted to blurt this out to in such a manner—who was now gawking at him in shock and horror. He tensed up, eyes bugging widely. "Oh damn," he finally and numbly said.

Frozen

"Hyde kidnapped my _husband_?!" Elsa furiously demanded of Jekyll, Orsted, and Iscawin all, each of which looked thoroughly cowed. Jekyll and Orsted of course hadn't known, but they were lumped in with Iscawin anyway. "How even does he get the jump on a Southern Isles prince, Iscawin? How?!"

"Arendelle's made him soft?" Iscawin replied. He knew that was the wrong thing to say immediately when the room suddenly dropped in temperature. "I mean he was probably distracted! At something! Because that's a thing that happens! Even to us."

"Do you have any idea of where at least?" Elsa demanded.

"No," Iscawin admitted.

"Oh my gods," Elsa said, shoving the heels of her palms into her eyes. This couldn't be happening. Not now! "Fine. Then if _you_ can't track your brother, I will," she said, forming an all too familiar ice bird in her hands. It ruffled its feathers as if just awakened from a long sleep, looked around, then rested its eyes on her. Elsa gently played her fingers down its back. "Find him. Then come back and lead the rest of us to where he is," she pled to it gently. It trilled and took off into the air, flying immediately for a window. Orsted, flabbergasted, quickly opened it and out the bird flew, him gawking after it in disbelief. What on earth had he gotten himself into?

"Franz is protecting Louise. Hyde disappeared from our grasps and we don't know where he went," Iscawin finally dared say again. "He came on Franz and Louise on an outing and told Franz he had Hans captive. Then tried to get Franz to exchange Louise for Hans. Then tried to get Franz to exchange you, Henry, for Hans."

"Tell me he agreed," Jekyll said.

"No, he didn't. Then Hyde implied that if he didn't get Louise from the deal, he'd experiment with Hans, which triggered Franz, and then things were getting tense but I had happened by to fetch them from their date and overheard Hyde's boasts and taunts. I snuck up to try and take Hyde out permanently, but Carabis interfered. At least I assume it was Carabis," Iscawin said. He hesitated a moment then pulled Hans' pouch from his pocket. "Hyde dropped this when I attacked him," he said, offering it to Elsa who took it numbly, all too aware of the blood soaking it.

She felt her stomach twist in dread. She let out a shaking breath, closing her hand over the trinket for a moment before slipping it into a pocket of her dress as a wave of grief washed over her, which she promptly banished because he wasn't dead! There was no reason to feel grief. She was going to get him back, _they_ were going to get him back, and she wouldn't let herself believe anything else. She turned to Jekyll and Orsted. "Do what you can," she said. "With luck we'll find him ourselves before anything rash needs to happen, but… but the sooner something is worked up to counter Edward Hyde, the better." Jekyll and Orsted nodded, retreating to Jekyll's lab to begin their work. Elsa turned to the window to anxiously await the ice bird's arrival. When it came, they would gather a company—she wasn't sure who all they'd bring—and they'd find her husband, dammit. They'd find him…

Frozen

The door to Hans and Charles' prison slammed over. Both men looked sharply over only to see Hyde storming angrily in. He didn't speak, just headed right for them. Both bristled and started to squirm. Hyde seized Hans around the throat. The prince gave a strangled cry. "Your brothers will pay for their defiance with your blood," Hyde practically spat. He raised his cane high above his head. Hans caught his breath, eyes widening.

"Wait, wait, wait, wait!" Charles exclaimed. Hyde growled, sharply looking at the back of the author's head. "Come now, can't-can't we be civil about this? Is it money you want? Recognition? I can give you that! I can give you whatever you want, just for god's sake don't kill him!"

"Suddenly friends again I see?" Hyde sneered. "I should have left you both gagged."

"We're simply two civilized human beings who feel a compromise can be reached here that doesn't cost anyone their lives," Charles replied.

"You think this is about money? About recognition or even about power? I spurn it all! To hell with it! This is about Jekyll. This is about ravaging Jekyll!"

"Why? What do you even want from him?!" Charles demanded.

"To see him suffer, to make him pay, to make him rue the day he unleashed Edward Hyde upon the world!" Hyde declared.

"He already does!" Hans said desperately, eyes fixated in horror on the cane still hovering high about his head, lead bottom ready to be slammed down on his head which would not be a pretty way to go, obviously. Nor was it the way he wanted to be remembered! For goodness sakes, the last thing he wanted was for Elsa to suffer through a closed casket funeral because her husband's body was so ruined the remains couldn't be shown!

"And he will continue to the rest of his days," Hyde replied.

"What do you want from him? Really?" Hans pressed, treading dangerously he knew.

"His suffering," Hyde insisted.

"You're a parasite who desires to be in the body of his host once more," Charles daringly said, trying to get Hyde to focus on him instead of Hans.

Hyde darkly chuckled. Charles was actually relieved. He'd regretted his words immediately, expecting the man to bring down that lead-tipped ball on _his_ head instead. "Is it the shard your human form is built around that scares you, or is it your existence itself?" Hans questioned, keeping his tone even and calm.

"Always back to the mirror. But it isn't the mirror this time, boy. I'm surprised you haven't figured that. Separate from Jekyll I am unstoppable. But _he_ is free. He is not afraid. He is not under my control. He is… content. Let me let you in on a little secret. He never suffered more than he did when I was a part of him. _Within_ him." Hans felt a chill run through him. _His suffering_ , Hyde had said… Hyde wanted nothing more than Jekyll's suffering… And it would only happen to his contentment if he became Jekyll's disorder once more… And there was a more sinister connotation.

 _Jekyll had never suffered more than he had when Hyde was within him._

Did that imply that a part of the doctor was actually… happy with Hyde's separation from himself? That part of him was content to let the monster wander independent until he could more permanently be rid of him? Did that mean that all the tragedy that followed in Hyde's wake was just… collateral? He immediately denied those thoughts. Those were more in line with the Southern Isles than Jekyll… But then again Jekyll was a practical man. Sacrifice the few to save the many and all that. It didn't mean the man would be happy about it, it didn't mean he wouldn't feel torn apart with guilt over it or be willing to do anything he could to stop it, it just meant that in the long run Hyde's more permanent removal would benefit more than his temporary presence on the mortal coil would bereave! Except killing Hyde might not be an option… Then what?

Hyde seemed satisfied with the thoughts he sensed going through Hans's mind, and smirked icily, letting go of his throat and stepping back. There was a trill at the window. Hans, Charles, and Hyde all looked up. Hans caught his breath, paling. There, perched on a high up sill, was a little bird of ice he knew all too well. No…

Hyde began to chuckle. "The Snow Queen has come for her Wicked Prince," he murmured, looking darkly to Hans. "She is with child, isn't she? Such a proud father you must be. Such a happy mother _she_ must be. It would be a shame if someone were to… ruin it." Hans nearly jerked the chairs over onto the ground from the force with which he lunged. Charles didn't blame him one whit, and if Hans had been able to Charge Hyde even tied, Charles would have happily helped. As it was, their legs were bound to the chair legs so there would be no movement unfortunately.

"You couldn't harm her if you tried," Hans darkly said.

"But I could harm _you_ ," Hyde replied.

"Then do it!" Hans said.

Hyde thought a moment then smirked darkly. "I have something far, far more sinister in mind than harming you or her," he said. Hans felt an uneasy prickling up and down his back.

 _The baby…_

This time, though, he willed himself to stay calm and not give a reaction. He looked back up at the window. The ice bird flew away, doubtless to return to Elsa. And his brothers. And lead them here… "Will you be here when they come, Edward?" Hans darkly asked.

"No. My attentions will be… elsewhere. They're suitably distracted now," Hyde answered, turning and leaving once more.

 _Louise…_

 _No, she would come with them!_

 _Unless they wanted to protect her and left her safe at home._

 _They aren't that stupid! They would leave her with guardians if they did that._

 _Hyde can take Erik and Francis. He took Charles and you of all people, after all…_

"There's no guarantee he means her, Hans," Charles spoke up gently. Hans snapped out of his thoughts and turned slightly, listening. "His true obsession is Jekyll. And so it may be to Jekyll he goes. And… you mentioned the arrival of more siblings still. Were they not due today? If so, Louise and Edvard are extraordinarily well protected. It's Jekyll who'll be vulnerable. But I don't think he wants to hurt the doctor. Just… see him squirm."

"I hope to the gods you're right," Hans said.

Frozen

They waited patiently for the bird to return. Every minute that passed, though, Elsa became more and more concerned. Finally they heard the familiar song and looked quickly over with gasps. It was back! Elsa quickly went to the window, scooping it into her hands and stroking it." Who all will come with me?" she asked.

"Franz and I for certain, and there's no way we're leaving Louise or Edvard behind. Odds are Utterson will want a piece of this, and Erik, Francis, Kristoff... basically all of Hans' friends," Iscawin replied. "On top of that our brothers are due to arrive today. If they happen to be here now, or close, we can wait for them and bring them as well, though I'm not sure they're due until later tonight."

"I would accompany you as well if I could, but the sooner we find a way to reign in Hyde the better," Jekyll said.

"Agreed," Orsted said. "Henry and I will stay back working on potential solutions and concoctions to counter Hyde."

"If you stay, be safe doctor. He may come for you next," Elsa said in concern. "I all of us are gone, no one will be here to protect you but yourself and Orsted."

"Who is useless," Orsted spoke up wryly, smirking. "I'm good with a pistol and that's about it. As you can plainly see, no pistol is on my person."

"Nor would it be a guarantee that Hyde will be stopped," Jekyll gravely said. "I'm... not entirely sure he's of flesh and blood as you might think."

"Well that's... disturbing," Orsted replied, frowning a bit in concern.

Jekyll nodded and looked back at Elsa. "Hurry, my lady. The sooner Hans and Charles are freed the better. But be careful. This late in your pregnancy the baby may be more versatile than it was earlier on, but it is still very, very vulnerable. Too much stress or any serious trauma to you could end it. It would be better for you both if you didn't go, but I'm not going to stop you. You aren't Hyde's ultimate concern and your powers make you too difficult for him to harm for him to be bothered trying."

"Be safe, Henry," Elsa said. She turned to Iscawin. "Let's go get the others and find your brother." Iscawin nodded determinedly and the two hurried out leaving Jekyll and Orsted alone.

Orsted watched after them quietly. "You realize that the only way we might be able to reign in Hyde is... is to return him back to you?" he said.

Jekyll was silent. "I realize," he finally answered.

"Are you alright with that?" Orsted asked.

"No... But if it is what must happen to leash the monster, then it must happen," Jekyll replied. "I would prefer to go for a kill, though."

"As would I, frankly," Orsted replied. "So that must be our ultimate goal. Let's not think of a reversal potion yet." Jekyll nodded gratefully and the two returned to the lab to work.

Frozen

Elsa was honestly surprised at the size of Hans' little posse. Looking at it all together in one place say for a few missing party members, it was surprisingly large. She had to admit she was proud of him for making so many. She wasn't sure what he'd had for friends before. "That little bird is going to lead us to Hans?" Carl incredulously asked, staring at the ice creature.

"It will," Elsa confirmed, releasing it. "We just follow." The bird flew over to a window, landing on the skill and trilling for them to pursue it. "Are we ready? There's no telling what's waiting for us. Hyde may be there, he may not, but..."

"It won't matter if he's there anyway. We vastly outnumber him. Flesh and blood man or not, we still outnumber him vastly. He won't stand a chance," Erik said. "Let's go. The sooner Hans and Charles are out of his clutches the better."

"I hope Charles is taking it okay," Kristoff said. "Hans may be used to this kind of thing, but he definitely isn't."

"When we were bound and kidnapped before, it was usually by our family and usually to be put on reserve for torture or punishment, so if anything this is a break for him," Iscawin said. The others looked at him in disbelief. Elsa winced looking highly uncomfortable now. "Sorry, but that's the reality of it," Iscawin said, shrugging. "This is probably a cakewalk for him."

"Would you quit freaking out Elsa?" Francis demanded.

"You seem more freaked out than her," Louise teased, smirking at the man.

"Oh, I'm freaked out. I just don't show it," Elsa replied.

"Let's be honest. We're all freaking out," Harald nervously said. "Come on, let's get going already! Hans and Charles can't wait."

Elsa nodded and hurried out of the house with the rest of the party. The bird took off once they were all there, and quickly they followed it through the streets of London. It stayed close so it didn't lose them on the way. "He's probably being kept in the Soho apartment Jekyll had furnished for Hyde," Utterson said.

"Wouldn't that be like... a little obvious?" Kristoff asked.

"It would be. But Hyde is instinctual, not a critical thinker," Utterson replied. "He'll go where he feel safe and stash his toys there."

"Must you call my husband and Charles his toys?" Elsa asked, wincing.

"Yes, because that's what they are. That's what all of his victims are to him I think. Even those he just wrongs instead of kills," Utterson replied. "I'm of the opinion that the whole of _life_ is a toy to Edward Hyde."

"How dreadfully disturbing," Louise said in concern. "Are you sure Henry will be alright?"

"No. But Hyde I don't believe wants him dead either," Utterson replied. "He needs his host alive." Louise shuddered at the choice of term.

Frozen

Jekyll sat across from Hyde, pale and tense with fingers dug into the arms of his chair. Orsted lay unconscious on the floor, struck by Hyde's cane but not killed. There was silence between them as they sat across from one another. It was almost like… like looking into a twisted mirror of himself… "Who went to valiantly rescue the distressed hero and his author friend?" Hyde finally asked. "Indulge me."

"His wife, his brothers, Louise, Gabriel, Erik, Francis, Kristoff, Edvard, Carl, Harald… Everyone but Hans Orsted and I," Jekyll replied.

Hyde hummed. "And left you all alone to fend for yourself against me," Hyde growled. Silence. "Look at us. Sitting apart from one another so casually. Tell me how it feels, Jekyll. My presence. How does it feel…?"

Jekyll was quiet. "Comfortable. Safe… Right…" he finally answered in a whisper. "And I don't want it to be…"

"But it is. Because no matter what separates us from one another, I am and will always be a part of _you_ ," Hyde said. "Why do you fight it? Why do you fight me?"

"In the hopes of being rid of you forever," Jekyll replied. "And I will fight for that hope as long as I can."

"Even if it should cost you everything?" Hyde asked.

Jekyll was quiet. "Your death will benefit more than your existence bereaves, within or outside of me," he bitterly replied.

"You're a colder man than most believe, Henry Jekyll," Edward replied.

"There was always a darker part of me. One that wasn't ever linked to you," Jekyll replied. "But I would not call it dark, actually, so much as pragmatic. I hate the word, I hate the state, but sometimes you _must_ be pragmatic."

"Well spoken," Hyde replied. "But you cannot escape yourself, Jekyll."

"Jekyll and Hyde are not the same," Jekyll replied. "Not even when we shared a body were we the same."

"Would all those victims who suffered at Hyde's hands be of the same opinion?" Hyde darkly asked.

"No. But were we again in that situation—thank the gods we aren't—this time I would hang happily and at peace, knowing that Hyde would be gone once and for all and that he and I, in the end, were not the same. I wouldn't have felt that way before," Jekyll replied. "Now you must go back to that little place in Soho that was yours and furnished for you, and I will remain here, and if our conflict must continue it must continue, but our conversation is through, Edward. See yourself out." Hyde scowled darkly in the candlelight then rose and walked away in silence, Jekyll watching after him…

The moment the door shut, Jekyll shot up and raced to Orsted, falling next to him and checking him over in concern. "Hans? Hans!" he said as he tried to revive the man. He rose and hurried to a doctor's bag, returning with scented salts and holding them under his companion's nose. Orsted groaned weakly, grimacing and shifting a little. Slowly his eyes blinked open, falling on Jekyll. "H-Henry. Who...?"

"It was Hyde," Jekyll stated with a shaky breath. "Come on, get up. I need to tend that goose egg on your head and make sure you're not badly concussed."

Hans shuddered a little and slowly rose with Jekyll's help. He almost vomited at the motion, but Jekyll kept him steady. "It's alright," Jekyll soothed. "Take it easy." Orsted nodded. Jekyll moved him gently into the examining room. He hoped they found Hans and Charles alright.

Frozen

The group stared out quietly at the building the bird let them to. "What did I tell you? Apartment in Soho," Utterson said. He strode across the street without waiting despite the others whispering out for him not to and reaching to grab him back. He marched on unfazed, going right up to the door and tapping on it a few times with his cane. "Hello Edward, it's Jekyll's friend Utterson! I've come for a little visit," he called cheerily as if he wasn't talking at all to a criminal and killer. Elsa face-palmed, shaking her head, and the rest of them hurried to catch up to Utterson before he got himself in trouble. Utterson listened. "Edward, open the door will you please? Otherwise I'll have to cast aside my gentlemanly stature and attempt to break in you realize."

"Break the hell in!" a voice shouted urgently from inside.

"Hans!" Elsa exclaimed, racing to the door.

Stunned silence. "Don't break the hell in!" Hans quickly amended. Elsa started and pulled back, looking offended.

Edvard chuckled, patting her shoulder. Kristoff and Erik took on the job of breaking in the door. The two largest people there, they had it down with the first blow and the party hurried inside the apartment, scanning for their missing friends. "In the back!" Charles' voice called. Quickly they fanned out searching and soon came to a locked door. Again it caved in with the first blow from Kristoff and Erik. Elsa shot inside quickly and gasped upon seeing her husband and Charles bound to chairs back to back. She guessed that explained why Hans hadn't just burned their way out. To do so would have killed Charles. "Hans!" she exclaimed, racing to him and immediately setting to work on the ropes.

"Elsa, are you out of your mind?!" Hans demanded.

"I'm pregnant, not helpless!" Elsa shot.

"I never claimed you were!" Hans protested. "But for all I know you all showing up here is exactly what Hyde wants! He might be coming back this very minute. He might have a plan! You're all in danger and you shouldn't have come!"

"Jekyll will distract him," Franz said. "How about you let me and Iscawin worry about potential traps and you just shut up and let yourself be saved like the Sap in Distress you are." As if emphasizing his gloating he ruffled his brother's hair so it was messy. Hans scowled and bit at his hand. Franz jerked away from his teeth with a laugh, leaving to watch the door with Iscawin.

"Well that's a blow to pride," Charles flatly said.

"No kidding," Hans grumbled. He felt the ropes give and immediately pulled his hands away, rubbing his wrists with a wince.

Charles followed suite, rising quickly and starting to move around to get the blood flowing again. "We have to get out of here. Now," the writer said. "We..." He trailed off upon seeing Elsa in Hans's arms clinging to him. He held her almost desperately, tightly, kissing her adoringly and resting his hand on her stomach near to tears from the joy of seeing her again. She was near to tears too, holding on like she'd never let him go muttering things in Norwegian almost frantically. Charles frowned. "We can stay and wait for Hyde to come find us and try and attack us all by surprise, apparently, because of course we must make room for kisses and hugs and doting."

Elsa and Hans blinked blankly, looking over at him, and frowned. "Shove it up yours, Charles!" Hans shot. "You're just jealous your marriage is falling apart."

"Oh that's it, you're dead to me!" Charles fired viciously.

"It's the truth and you know it!" Hans shot.

"Uh, g-guys?" Harald nervously called. They looked at him. He was staring out the window, pale. "Hyde's coming back!"

"Oh damn!" Charles exclaimed, racing to the window too.

Utterson walked casually over, shuffled them both out of the way, opened the window and leaned out, and called. "Edward, hello! There you are! I'd just stopped by for a visit you know! Come on up why don't you? I'll put on some tea!" The others stared at him in mortification, mouths dropped. Hyde, on the street, froze in place, looking sharply up. For a moment he just stared. Finally, though, he chuckled, turned on his heel, and walked the other way. "Where are you going Mr. Hyde? A prior engagement? A pity! I should seek you out another time then. Goodbye!" After a moment he turned to them, closing the window. "Instinctual, as I said," Utterson said borderline triumphantly. "Now, let's get poor Charles back home to his wife and his little darlings, shall we?" The others could only stare at him, flabbergasted. They all exchanged stunned looks.

* * *

( **Important A/N:** Good news! There'll be another chapter after this after all. Didn't think I could put together enough of a plan to be able to write another one, but turns out I was wrong. It should be much more satisfying an end than it originally was, I think. Thank goodness I didn't mark his story a complete.)


	11. Reassurances

Reassurances

( **Final A/N:** This is the last chapter now. I haven't edited this, been busy, but hopefully there aren't too many mistakes. Hans and Charles' relationship will be touched on again in future, so it's not entirely the end for their arc. I hope you enjoy this new final chapter. Reviews are appreciated as is feedback. It helps me improve, get better, and come up with more and more ideas that keep this series going. Thank you to all of you, both readers and reviewers.)

As they walked through the streets, Elsa and Hans held hands tightly, Elsa murmuring quietly to him looking guilt-stricken and ashamed. "What is she saying?" Edvard wondered of Iscawin.

"She's apologizing to him for what she did, for the decision she made, for exiling him basically. She's torn up over it. He's assuring her it's alright and that he understands why she did it," Iscawin said.

"Why did she?" Harald asked.

"Because Hans is... not the most stable person around, nor are any of us," Iscawin replied. "And something... very bad almost happened, and he just... he couldn't take it and reacted. Terribly. Southern Isles terribly. It wasn't pretty and the people became afraid of him, and they started to murmur that Arendelle was becoming the Southern Isles and that terrified them more, and terrified people are unstable people so naturally Elsa had to put a stop to that fear immediately and... and frankly the only way she could was to exile Hans until the fear was passed. Until she could reassure them that Arendelle would never become us," Iscawin replied. "It was for her safety as well as hers and the baby's, as well as her nation. But it was hard on her I think. Really hard. And hard on him."

Charles listened in silence, not making a comment. He looked up only when they were nearing his home, and paused briefly before starting towards it a little more rapidly. Hans watched after him, winced, then let go of Elsa's hand and followed him. The others stayed put, watching from afar. Charles approached his home and opened the door quietly. Catherine was there with their two youngest children, rocking them to sleep. She looked up with a frown upon hearing the door open. Upon seeing it was him, she sighed. "Where were you?" she asked.

"It doesn't matter. I'm here now," he replied.

She frowned on seeing Hans behind him. "You still haven't gotten rid of him? Know when you're not welcome anymore, Mr. Andersen!" she sharply said.

"Mama, is the writer back?" Mary's voice asked. The girl came into the room, drying a dish.

"Writer. Yes... Because that's all he is," Charles bitterly said. Hans winced. Catherine raised an eyebrow.

"I'm... I'm just here to get my things. Then I'll be on my way," Hans said.

"Yes. He has a kingdom to run, as it turns out," Charles bit. He honestly had to admit he was immensely satisfied when Catherine just stared at him, not seeming to fully wrap her head around what he'd just said.

"Excuse me?" she finally said, and the tone of her voice almost made Hans laugh in her face. He might have, under any other circumstance... Except for the fact he suspected this could be the last time he ever saw Charles again...

"As it turns out, Mr. Hans Christian Andersen is actually King Hans Christian Westergaard. Prince of the Southern Isles, King-consort to Queen Elsa of Arendelle," Charles stated. "Now bow to royalty Catherine."

Catherine shot to her feet, eyes and mouth wide in shock and horror, utterly mortified. She tried to sputter out a reply but couldn't find the words. "He's a prince?!" Mary squealed. She still grudged him his rejection of course, but this was just too utterly thrilling to her! Oh Kate would be absolutely bowled over to learn the 'bony bore' was in fact far from it.

"A king-consort," Charles corrected. "And now he's leaving." He marched passed them. Hans trailed silently, head bowed. Mary eagerly curtseyed as he passed. Catherine was frozen in place unable to even move she was so deep in shock.

Frozen

Hans was quiet at Charles got his things together for him. "Charles, I..."

"Don't," Charles cut off.

"You don't have to do this. I'll get my own things," Hans said, head hung and eyes closed.

"It will be my pleasure, majesty," Charles all but sneered. "I must beg your forgiveness for my family's behavior and for mine, I suppose."

"You don't have to be afraid. Please. Don't be afraid. I wish no ill upon you or your family for anything you wronged me with. I hardly felt wronged at all!" Hans insisted.

"It's too late for apologies, Hans!" Charles shot, standing up and holding his head in his hands, stressed.

"It doesn't have to end this way. I don't want to lose your friendship," Hans said calmly.

Charles was silent. A part of him didn't want that either... He drew a shaking breath, bowing his head. "Forgive me," he finally said. "But you have to go now... Goodbye, Hans..."

Hans was quiet. "You saved me from Hyde, stopped him from murdering me. Why?" he asked. Charles was quiet.

 _Because you're my friend... Or I thought you were..._

"Because I am a decent man who didn't wish death upon anyone, least of all... least of all you... Who was once my friend..." Charles replied.

"Prince or not I can still be," Hans said. "Please. Let's start over."

Charles was quiet, holding Hans' things and staring at them miserably. He let out a shaking breath, closed the bag, and turned to him, pushing it into his arms. "Just. Go," he said. "Please." He just... he couldn't deal with this right now.

"Charles, I beg you! Reconsider. I'm still every bit the man you thought you knew. I haven't changed because suddenly you know I'm a prince!" Hans insisted.

"This isn't just about your status, Hans! This is about your lying to me for over a month! Imposing on my family and friendship, bringing chaos to lives that were otherwise in order..."

"What order? You're thinking about divorcing your wife when you have a gaggle of children half of which are still biting ankles!" Hans shot. "I brought you relief!"

"Yes! Yes… For a while you did... And then you didn't anymore... Now go. I'm through speaking to you," Charles said.

Hans was quiet, furiously staring at the bag with frustrated tears threatening his eyes. Of course they were in Charles' too, though the author was doing a valiant job of hiding them. That stiff-upper-lip the Brits were so famously stereotyped for, Hans bitterly thought to himself. He drew a shaking breath and let it out. He turned to Charles once more. "I'm sorry," he finally said. "I never wanted it to be this way... I never wanted to take advantage of you or your friendship, I never wanted to make your life more stressful and difficult than it was... Just... I'm sorry..." Charles was quiet, looking away from him now miserably, not able to bring himself to respond. "Goodbye, Charles... Your friendship was so very dear to me, while I had it. I will cherish what it was the rest of my days... I hope you find peace in your life and your family once again. Good luck." With that he left. Charles let out a shaking and wavering breath, bowing his head low and sniffing.

Frozen

Hans left the house in silence looking guilt-stricken and miserable. Elsa was waiting with Utterson, which was a surprise. It seemed the others had gone back probably to Edvard and Louise's house, or Carl's. Elsa winced on seeing her husband so forlorn and went to him, taking his hands in hers. "It'll be alright," she gently said to him.

He looked at her stomach and gently placed his hand against it, rubbing lightly. A small smile pulled at his lips. "I know it will be," he replied. He felt a kick and gasped in shock, jumping back and blinking rapidly a few times. "It kicked. Elsa I felt it kick! It's kicking, oh my gosh!" he exclaimed excitedly like a child who had just received the greatest present of all time.

She laughed, pulling him close and kissing his lips adoringly. She drew back. "It missed you I think," she teased. Her smile became more serious. " _I_ certainly did."

His grin became a soft smile. Then he looked a little worried. "Have there been many spells?" he asked.

She winced and nodded, bowing her head. "Too many for my liking," she replied. "But I assume they'll become more and more frequent as the due date gets closer."

He nodded. "This time I'll be there with you," he said, resting his hand on her bump again. "I'm sorry... That I forced you to make a decision like that."

"No, it's okay," she replied. "It hurt but... but it was for the best. I've been able to smooth a lot of things over with my people, put to rest a lot of their concerns... I dare say when we get back it may be better for you than it's ever been."

He smiled softly and affectionately at her. He kissed her once more gently. "Let's go," he murmured, nuzzling her forehead. She nodded and they left hand-in-hand to go back to Utterson, who was standing there looking elsewhere pretending not to notice their intimate moment. "Hey, thanks for hanging around," Hans said.

"Yes, well, I have nothing pressing, nor do I have many matters to tend to. Aside from this and the whole Jekyll fiasco. Which, by the way, should be our next stop. I must confess I'm terribly worried for him."

"Then let's get going," Elsa said. "We're worried too."

Frozen

Before arriving back at Edvard and Louise's place, the trio detoured to check on Jekyll. Hans and Utterson seemed nervous and in fact suddenly very on edge. They entered only to find Hans Orsted injured and wincing in pain as Jekyll bandaged his head, tending it carefully.

"Henry, Hans!" Utterson exclaimed in alarm. Orsted and Jekyll both looked over.

"What. The hell. Happened?" Hans asked.

"Need you even ask?" Jekyll questioned. "Hyde came. That's all there is to it. He snuck up on us and before I could react Hans was unconscious on the ground and Hyde was there. We... conversed. About matters... And he left..."

Elsa was stunned. "You're coming back with us Henry," she finally found her voice to say.

"And unleash Hyde on peaceful Arendelle? He'll follow me, Elsa. You know that," Jekyll replied. "Then it will be your people in danger once more."

"Arendelle is a far, far smaller place than London. Her people know who Hyde is and how to handle him. In Arendelle there's nowhere for him to hide anymore... He won't set foot inside the village without being pounced on. The man will be contained, more likely than not he won't be able to indulge his tendencies toward murder and other vile things, and you'll be safe. We can protect you there, give you time to find a solution. Besides, I... I would very much like you to be the one to deliver my child when the time comes. I want the best of the best, and you're the best."

Jekyll shook his head. He finally sighed. "Alright," he relented. "But should Hyde show signs of getting out of control, should there be one drop of innocent blood spilled in that place, I'm going to leave. Disappear in the forest or mountains or something. Go somewhere he can't hurt anyone again."

"Except you. It's not happening," Hans replied. Maybe he'd been wrong about the deaths happening all about Hyde being collateral or an acceptable sacrifice to Jekyll... But he didn't know. Nor did he particularly care. They would find a way to end Hyde somehow. "We'll work it out."

"And I will be closer to you soon anyway, if you return there," Orsted offered. "The trip to Arendelle won't be an extensive one for me and my daughter, nothing like a commute to Britain. You're certainly not figuring this out on your own, Henry."

"Thank you," Jekyll replied.

"Then we'll see you at the docks the day we return to Arendelle," Elsa said. "I'll give you the details when I know them. It shouldn't take too long. I _am_ interested, though, in exploring Britain a bit before we leave. I've... discovered a new interest in it. Mainly its legends." She looked meaningfully at Hans, a dangerous frown on her face. "Particularly those pertaining to King Arthur," she icily added.

Hans tensed up, paling slightly. He was silent a moment. "Fine," he finally replied in a cold tone, folding his arms warily. " _I'm_ most interested in learning why suddenly those legends jump out to you."

"Oh, you'll learn," Elsa replied. Hans grimaced. This was _not_ going to be fun.

Frozen

Hans' brothers arrived shortly after their return to Edvard and Louise's home. Hans and Elsa went to meet them at the docks and then gathered together in a park where they could speak in private. Elsa listened in shock and disbelief to the story her brothers-in-law and Hans told her. Hans listened in even more disbelief when it came to the part his brothers had dealt with without him. "You saw what?!" he exclaimed in horror.

"Jealous?" Iscawin sang.

"Why would you do that without me?!" Hans demanded. "A probably once in a lifetime experience and you couldn't include _me_?! It was Camelot, man!"

"I mean, you were working out your personal stuff with Elsa and all that. We hardly wanted to distract you from that. Or would you have rather chosen Camelot over your lovely wife?" Franz taunted.

"I..." Hans began angrily. He glanced at Elsa, winced, and said. "Absolutely not. I totally wouldn't do anything different if I had the chance. My wife is more important to me than anything else. Even more important than seeing a legendary kingdom thought to be a myth whose existence and level of preservation would have been of intense historical and cultural significance, filled with never-seen-before antiques left exactly as they were long ago, making it an almost untainted window into a past that surrounded a land and time filled with magic and wonder. Let's not forget Orkney either, or the thousand plus year old wine or the feasting with, you know, a king straight out of one of the most legendary and intense sagas of like, all time... I dined with them before anyway."

"Pfft, I'd choose this legendary adventure crew and the mystical ruins of ancient kingdoms immortalized in legend over you personally," Elsa said.

"Oh good, then I won't feel bad when I confess I lied an would in fact do the same," Hans replied, smirking at her. "I mean, I can see _you_ anytime."

Elsa smirked in turn and turned back to Franz and Iscawin. "Then I suppose it's my turn to add to this and why I figured out something was up," she said. With that she began to tell the story of Soredamer and how she'd come to be in her court and why she'd claimed to be there and who she was.

There was a long beat of silence. "Wow. I... somehow doubt that Alexander's going to be thrilled to hear what, you know, almost happened to his wife," Jurgen remarked.

"Soredamer was adamant heads would have rolled had anything been done to her. They might still roll," Elsa said, grimacing. "But... they don't know she's here. I don't know what to do, whether to tell them now that I know they're around or keep it secret."

"Lot deserves to know his daughter is here, like Mordred deserves to know his sister is here, like Alisander deserves to know his wife is here," Runo said.

"Except she never specified if she wanted them to know," Elsa said.

"Why would she drop his name if she didn't think she'd ever cross his path or be able to tell him of the atrocity that would have befallen her?" Justic pointed out.

"For now we need to deal with one thing at a time," Caleb cut in. "Right now our goal is to get our brother home safely along with his pregnant wife, then retreat to the Southern Isles and pretend none of this happened. For our own goods as well as theirs."

"I would like to stay a little longer, actually, with Louise and Edvard. Then return to Arendelle with Jekyll in tow before heading home. And... perhaps while I'm here, I can return to Orkney and deliver to the knights the message that Soredamer exists and get their thoughts on the matter after I explain her viewpoint to them."

"That may be something Soredamer wants to do for herself," Elsa said.

"It's more likely what Soredamer wants to do for herself is tell them what all befell her since arriving. There's no harm that can come of Franz telling them she's been sighted and the reason she hasn't come," Hans argued. He looked at Franz. "Take me with you," he pled.

"One word. Mordred," Franz replied. Hans winced, shifting uncomfortably. It probably shouldn't be this difficult a debate for him over whether the risk was worth it or not... FYI, it was totally worth it he determined. But it wasn't just him he had to worry about. He somehow doubted Elsa would be thrilled with the idea of him walking right up to the kid's front doors for a little visit knowing full well what Mordred wanted from him. Namely his life. "O-kay, I'll make the choice _for_ you. No." Hans frowned, thought about firing back an argument, then glanced at Elsa and hesitated. Maybe staying away was for the best after all. He sighed and nodded in agreement.

"I would like to go," Elsa said. "As long as the boy doesn't know I'm Hans' wife, I should be find."

"Et tu, Elsa?" Hans asked with a groan. "What's even the point of me staying here then?"

"None at all," she replied, smirking. "You should go home in fact." He frowned, unimpressed. "Don't sulk, love. You've gone many places without me, after all."

"And you without me!" he argued. Like Corona and Avalor, for instance.

"Your brother will take good care of me," she teased. "But I would like to meet this Lot of Orkney."

"And I would rather you never, ever did," Hans replied.

"Is he that good looking?" she teased.

"He's dreamy," Franz said, smirking. "Almost on par with Sir Dinadan. Who will immediately be trying to leap up your skirts. So be warned."

"He already got Franz out of his pants," Justic bit. Franz shot him an annoyed and unimpressed glare. "And tried for Kelin-Sel," Justic added, pretending not to notice.

"I wrote down his lines. Guy's smooth," Kelin-Sel said, smirking and holding up the pad of paper on which he'd written said lines. Hans was fuming at his brothers, scowling almost murderously at them.

"Oh come off it, Hans. You know you're the only man for her," Coth teased, ruffling his brother's hair playfully.

Hans brushed his hands away frowning at him, then straightened up his hair with a huff. "I'll wait right here for you to return, thank you very much," he coldly said in response, folding his arms.

"Suit yourself, baby brother. I'm still taking your pregnant wife along," Franz said.

"If anything happens to her you're dead!" Hans shot. He looked at Elsa. "It's not going to come when I'm not there, is it?" he asked in some concern.

She smiled. "If it tries, I'll form an ice carriage and ice horses and fly all the way back to you so you can be there," she teased. "But really, Hans, I'm a few months too early for there to be a risk of it demanding freedom and trying to come out. It'll be okay."

"I don't like this," he flatly said.

"I know you don't," she replied before kissing him gently.

Frozen

Louise gaped up in wonder and awe at the palace before her. Franz had brought her with them. All the way to Orkney to be with him when he told the knights the message he was sent to speak about the woman Soredamer. He showed her the truth of it all in a display of complete trust and adoration, and tears burned her eyes as she gazed upon the wondrous sight; of a castle spoken of only in stories towering high in the sky, ruins but so very beautiful, and of six knights, living legends, stood before it... Two of them were kings, and one of those kings hid a small boy of seven behind him, that child peering out curiously.

Elsa stood on Franz's other side, staring at the sight utterly astounded. On _Louise's_ other side stood Jekyll, who was speechless and simply numbed at what was before them. It was Elsa who finally found it in herself to move towards them, taking a couple of tentative steps forward, not sure how they'd react to her approaching first. Louise was quick to gasp and release Franz's hand, joining Elsa and playing her handmaiden, Franz assumed, totally caught up in the fantasy of it all.

"You realize you may have thrown more suitors into our little mix, correct?" Jekyll muttered to Franz. Franz started, blinking, then looked at him in mortification, then back at the knights. More than one of which was eying up the girl in far-from-platonic interest. In fact, every single there. Which meant Kay, Menw, Hoel, and Dinadan all. He inwardly cursed to realize as much. They had the decency to not look at Elsa in such a way, her pregnant belly told them beyond doubt she was off limits so they didn't even give her a second look say for Lot, who was the one she intended to address and who stood as defacto leader. Louise, though won the whole of their attention. And she looked more than a little thrilled at it. He guessed you couldn't really beat the romanticized notion of bold knights in shining armor vying for the marriage hand of their desired damsel, and Louise did seem to love competition so it was just a plus for her if they all scrambled over themselves trying to catch her eye, but come on! This was hard enough as was!

"Um, no!" Franz sharply said to them, approaching Louise quickly and taking her hand, glaring at them spitefully. Menw and Hoel instantly backed down, catching on quickly. Dinadan and Kay? Not so much.

"Is she your wife?" Sir Kay asked.

"No!" Jekyll exclaimed immediately and indignantly.

"I'll take is she's neither of yours, then. Which means she's still fair game," Kay stated. Jekyll sputtered in outrage. Franz fumed furiously, mouth agape. Louise laughed and pulled playfully away from Franz to return to Elsa's side, smirking teasingly at her two suitors.

"They do worry so," she murmured to Elsa. "I have my plate full enough with just them. I'm hardly looking to add to it."

"You must stop teasing them, Louise. It's not nice," Elsa murmured back. "Don't lead on the knights either, for goodness sakes."

"Oh poo, what's the fun in that? But very well," she said. She sighed. "I suppose I'm not a child anymore, after all. I guess I should really stop behaving like a flighty little girl and start behaving more like a mature woman. Like you." Elsa smiled at the flattery then turned attention to King Lot, trying to figure out how to even begin to breach conversation with a man of his stature. "Introduce yourself, Elsa. And explain your purpose for coming here," Louise encouraged. "You're as much a queen as he is a king."

"Except I'm not. I'm not even in the same league," Elsa murmured seriously back. This was a man who had probably fought more battles than she could count, been on more adventures than she could ever imagine, navigated the politics of some of the most tumultuous of times in Europe's entire history, faced adversaries the likes of which she probably couldn't even dream, had been among the Round Table which was not a post won lightly... Yes he was far beyond her league!

"Talk to him as somewhat of an equal at least," Louise insisted. "He's just a man, and no longer even an actual king anyway." Elsa didn't personally completely agree with that deduction, but she saw the point Louise was trying to make and nodded anyway, then moved forward once more a little more confidently.

Frozen

"King Lot," she greeted, curtseying low to the ground and bowing her head to him. "I am Queen Elsa of Arendelle."

"Rise, my lady. You curtsey to a corpse," Lot replied. A morbid way to look at it, but in a sense true. "I haven't ruled as a king in over a thousand years. You need show me no more honor than a stranger."

"But a king you were, and as such you present yourself to this day. You will forgive me if I afford you the honor you don't believe you have a right to," Elsa eloquently replied as she rose. She was quite proud of herself for that response

"It that is your wish," Lot replied, sounding favorably impressed and sufficiently flattered. "I welcome thee, Queen of Arendelle," he said, bowing to her in turn. "But surely there is a reason for your coming here with the prince. Who I also assume has reason for coming back."

"He couldn't stay away from me and she was curious," Dinadan spoke up.

Lot looked highly unimpressed and gave Dinadan a dark and warning look that screamed 'shut up'. Louise started, looking at Franz in shock, who was blushing deeply. Oh crap. He caught her gaze and grinned sheepishly and guiltily. Louise raised an unimpressed eyebrow but didn't comment. Jekyll smirked at the ground ever so slightly victoriously. "I do have reason, my liege, as does he, but I think he perhaps should give his reasons first. They are more pertinent than mine," Elsa said.

"Very well. I will hear thee. Wilt thou dine with us?" Lot said. Louise grinned excitedly.

"It would be my honor," Elsa replied, curtseying again. Louise followed suite. Lot nodded at Menw, Dinadan, Hoel, and Kay. Kay responded with a lewd gesture to the king but nonetheless went back inside with the others who had gotten 'the nod'.

"They will prepare the meal," Lot said, turning to them again when the four others had left only him, Mordred, and Alexander behind. "Follow me, if you please."

Elsa nodded. She followed the two kings with the others at her back. Her eyes strayed to Mordred, resting on the little boy, who was staring back at her in wide-eyed and curious wonder. He looked so sweet... It was hard to imagine, looking at him like this, how he could possibly ever become the enemy the princes felt he would one day become... She smiled sweetly at him. "Hello little one. What's your name?" she asked.

"Mordred," he mumbled, tentatively letting go of Lot's hand to join himself to Elsa curiously, looking up at her in fascination.

"How old are you?" she asked.

"This many," Mordred said, holding up seven fingers.

"I'm afraid you'll have to count them out for me, little one. I'm not very good at it," Elsa said, smiling.

"Everybody can count to seven, see? One, two, three, four, five, six, seven," Mordred indignantly replied.

Elsa laughed a little. "You're a clever child, aren't you? A big personality too," she said.

"I'm not four, I'm seven!" he insisted. "You can count that many because everybody can count that many except for a baby, and you have a baby in your tummy so you aren't a baby. You're a mommy."

Elsa shifted slightly nervously, though she kept on the smile. "I'm going to be, yes," she replied.

"What is it?" Mordred asked.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"Is it a baby boy or baby girl?" Mordred asked.

"I'm... not sure, little one," Elsa replied.

"I'm Mordred!" Mordred declared firmly. "And I'm not little."

"You're very little compared to me. If you weren't I couldn't pick you up," she said, plucking him off the ground, which for some reason almost panicked Lot and made Alexander instantly jump on the defensive, freezing with hand going to his sword subtly, but Mordred began to giggle as Elsa tickled him and didn't scream. Lot seemed visibly shocked at this. Elsa, catching the look, winced and cleared her throat, putting him down again. "Sh-should I not have done that?" she asked him.

Lot raised an eyebrow and glanced at the now annoyed Mordred who was perturbed at being put down. "I... We'll discuss it later, my lady," he replied.

Elsa, puzzled at first, started then looked alarmed as she remembered the letters pertaining to Mordred. "Oh, no, it-it's alright. I-I think I realize why now," she said quickly.

Lot looked a bit suspicious as to why this was before seeming to come to a satisfactory conclusion and instead letting it go with a nod. "You have yet to introduce us to your friends," he said.

"My apologies, your majesty. "This is my handmaiden, Louise Collins," she said, gesturing to Louise. "And this is Henry Jekyll. He's... he's a doctor, sir. A very good one. Of medicine and science and some psychology."

Lot glanced at Jekyll, seemingly more intrigued, then looked at Mordred, then back at Jekyll. "I should like to chat with your doctor then, at some point later in the night. After dinner and explanations have been given."

"It would be my greatest pleasure, your excellency," Jekyll answered, bowing to him.

Frozen

"Couldn't stay away, could you Franz?" Dinadan teased when he went up to fetch Elsa's party of four for dinner.

"I was finding it quite easy, actually," Franz replied, smirking.

"Is that the woman you mentioned you were courting?" Dinadan asked.

"It is. And hopefully the woman I'm going to marry, depending on who she chooses," Franz said.

"If she's still flighty in her thoughts, maybe _I_ should move in," Dinadan said.

"Don't you dare," Franz replied flatly, unimpressed.

"We could do a little... experiment," Dinadan said.

"No," Franz dryly and firmly replied. "Not in a million years. I prefer my paramours to be all to myself."

"Paramours now are we?" Dinadan teased.

"Are you going to help father and raise my son?" Franz replied.

"Uh, no. Not going to happen," Dinadan replied, grimacing.

"Then no," Franz replied, smirking. "And it probably would have _still_ been no even if you'd said yes. Bad choice of words on my part. Now please behave yourself about Louise. I have my hands full enough with the doctor vying for her as well."

"Very well, I'll back down," Dinadan replied, chuckling.

He knocked on her door. "Yes?" she replied, opening it.

"Most fair damosel, that I hath been graced the honor of retrieving thee for thy feast is a reward far greater than any I hath had before. I am beholden to thee, maiden, and would champion thee at tourney should there be knight enough to be bothered with one, And for thy honor I would ride proudly to battle," Dinadan said. Franz gaped at him in horror as Louise, flushing, grinned brilliantly at the young knight obviously giddy with his words.

"Are you serious?!" Franz demanded, yanking Dinadan back with a scowl.

"Wouldst thou prefer me champion thee, oh most comely prince?" Dinadan replied, grinning wickedly.

"I'll champion myself thank you very much! And her for that matter! Keep your championing to yourself!" Franz shot.

"What's going on here?" Jekyll questioned as he approached in Elsa's company.

"He wants to champion her at tourney, whatever the hell that means!" Franz replied, pointing accusingly at Dinadan.

Jekyll started then looked unimpressed before smirking and chuckling. "Its equivalent, Franz, would be you fighting a duel for a woman you liked, your opponent probably fighting it for a woman _he_ likes. A cock fight."

"Uh, no, no, it's actually more complicated than that I'll have you know! In one sense it's winning them honor and victory. It wouldn't be your conquest or your win, it would be hers. _Her_ bragging rights over her friends, not yours. My champion's better than your champion and all that," Dinadan said.

"A little like... winning a prize for her at a fair and presenting it to her as a token," Jekyll said. "You won the prize, but you won it for her and so it becomes hers. You gave her a gift you worked hard to obtain for her as a token of love and affection."

"Sure, whatever your equivalent is. In other instances it was a show of devotion and loyalty. In others it was a proof of love or a display of love, in which instance loss or victory didn't usually matter, it was the thought that counted. As long as you tried your best kind of thing, in general. In still other instances it was a courting display, sort of like when two bucks start fighting each other to try and attract the attention of a doe, one of which will choose the victor more likely than not," Dinadan said.

"A cock fight. At least that latter instance," Jekyll said.

Dinadan frowned at him, unimpressed, then shrugged it off. "A tournament meant a lot of things to a lot of different people depending on their circumstance. Sometimes even just harmless fun. Gawain once championed a little girl and presented to her a token. In that instance it was an, err, 'prize at the fair' kind of thing. Pelleas attempted to court Arcade in a tournament. That was an incident that was more a 'two bucks fighting over a doe' thing. Palamedes and Tristan did the same over Iseult which was... hella drama, let me tell you. Arthur and Lancelot had sort of a hybrid of like everything going on over Guinevere."

"Fascinating," Elsa said.

"And fun to watch and see. They were like the biggest sporting events of our time, everyone rooting for their own team and such, and everyone fighting for someone else," Dinadan said. "Heck, we'd fight for each _other_ sometimes. Mostly the kings ended up championed, because kings and knights and all that, but still."

"Kings and knights?" Louise asked.

Dinadan hesitated slightly. "Rulers... don't tend to be as expendable as the soldiers serving them," he said, rubbing the back of his neck but offering little more description. They could deduce his meaning from there. Louise winced, catching on.

"Same for princes. Our brother's throne is secured tight. None of us say maybe Jurgen, if a serious royal tragedy happens, is ever going to see it, so none of us are really good for anything anymore," Franz said, nodding in understanding. "All of us are basically throwaways at this point. Just as our soldiers are throwaways in comparison to us by virtue of status alone. I mean, we aren't necessarily happy about it, but it is how it is. In a life and death situation, the solitary rule is to get royalty to safety no matter the personal cost. If no one else lives, the king or queen _must_. Though to get really technical, it's more the princes and princesses must. At least if those princes or princesses are the children of the king or queen. Like, I'm a prince but I'm more expendable than either Caleb or his children. In turn Caleb values the lives of his children over mine or even his own and would die to keep them alive. He can accept the loss of his siblings, but the loss of his children? Not happening. Again, getting really down to the nitty gritty the most likely survivors are going to be the king's queen and his heirs, heirs if not queen, because most men would _also_ sooner die than see their wives die. Of course that's a dangerous two-way street because most women feel the same for their husbands I'd imagine, and then we spiral into a totally new topic altogether that's convoluted like all getup."

"Enough of this depressing talk of expendability and death! A feast is waiting for us downstairs," Elsa cut off, feeling suddenly very uncomfortable with this conversation's direction. And suddenly very protective of the child she was carrying.

"Of course. Apologies, majesty," Dinadan said, smiling apologetically at her. "Follow me if you please."

Frozen

"Now, Prince Franz. Do you care to tell us why you've come?" Alexander asked the prince.

"A situation popped up in Arendelle, that Queen Elsa and her sister Princess Anna..." Franz began.

"Equally as lovely as her sister no doubt," Dinadan put in. He gasped in pain when Hoel stomped on his foot under the table.

"That Queen Elsa and Princess Anna were witness to," Franz continued, pretending not to notice Dinadan's remark as most everyone else seemed to be doing. He looked at Lot seriously. "Your Majesty, it's... your daughter has appeared. A woman calling herself..."

"Soredamer?!" Alexander exclaimed, shooting quickly to his feet with eyes wide and hopeful.

"Sora's here?" Mordred asked, sounding a little hopeful and looking excited.

"Not here right now, little one, but she might come later sometime," Elsa said.

"How long ago? Why did she not accompany you?" Lot asked quickly.

"It wasn't but a week or two ago," Elsa replied. "She didn't come because she's... making sure of something."

"Making sure of what?" Alisander demanded.

Elsa winced, not sure how to say it without Mordred clueing in. "She's making certain nothing... let's say 'disrupts' her. Or rather that nothing comes along with her to disrupt _you_ ," Franz said. The knights seemed to clue in, going silent suddenly.

"Well, we wouldn't want adoring fans tagging along with her now would we? Or... obsessed ones," Menw finally said.

"How long will she remain with you?" Alisander asked, sounding a little disheartened.

"I don't know," Elsa admitted.

"But she'll come?" Mordred asked.

"Eventually, darling," Elsa replied, smiling reassuringly at him.

"Is she alright?" Alexander asked.

"She's... fine. The details of her arrival are more her right to share than mine," Elsa replied.

"Please, is there any way I, we, can contact her?" Alisander pled.

"I... I suppose I could form with ice a carrier bird, created to carry correspondence between her and you," Elsa replied.

"I can play messenger," Menw offered.

"It's a long and tasking trip. Can you handle that distance?" Franz asked in a measure of concern.

"Without trouble," Menw replied. "Why?"

"Because… because I know my brother probably couldn't hold a form that long," Franz replied. "I thought maybe it was somewhat the same with you."

Menw nodded. "I can handle it," he assured again. "And if I have anything to say about it, your brother will soon enough start to be able to hold forms for longer than he can at present."

"Back to a previous statement, why, my lady, did you choose those particular words? More her right to share than mine?" Lot asked warily, eyes suspicious. "It almost sounds as if... as if not all went entirely smoothly."

"More her right than mine to share," Elsa repeated. "But you're correct in your deduction. It wasn't entirely... uneventful."

"But let's not talk more of such things over dinner," Louise cut in quickly, grinning disarmingly at the knights. Which seemed to throw most of them say Alisander and Lot. "Why don't we keep the conversation merry now? Talk of how exciting it will be when she arrives! I'm quite sure Emperor Alexander is dreaming up a welcome already."

"How dare you?!" Lot fired in appall, shooting to his feet and punching the table. "Lady, hold your tongue!" Lot fired in appall.

"I-I didn't mean it like that, I-I swear!" Louise quickly and fearfully exclaimed.

"Oh didn't you?!" Lot demanded.

"Take an ice bath, Lot. I thought you got over this whole spiel," Hoel said, coming to the girl's defense. He looked at the terrified looking Louise with a reassuring smile. "It's a whole daddy's little girl thing," he said to her. "Don't worry about it. He'll probably be jumping down Alisander's throat now the moment they're alone."

"Can I not be left alone with him?" Alexander pled with a groan. Lot scowled at him and sat back down, continuing to give the young man 'the glare'. If looks could kill and all that.

"Be a man, Alex!" Kay taunted, smirking cruelly at him. "What, does daddy-in-law frighten you? Did the jewels crawl back up inside?"

"Sir Kay, be silent! There are decent people present!" Lot snapped, gesturing to Jekyll, Elsa, Louise, Mordred, Menw, and Hoel. Franz he'd pegged for a bastard on par with Dinadan, so he didn't count him.

"I'm going to sleep with your daughter," Alisander bluntly stated to Lot. Lot started, blinked, then scowled, turning darkly and borderline murderously to Alisander. "In her room. Under your roof," Alisander pushed.

"You've let the wrong man influence you, little boy," Lot darkly stated. "And now you'll pay for it the moment our guests are... away. His suffering is on your head, Kay."

"Or we could tourney over it?" Dinadan lamely offered, and that he looked suddenly uncomfortable with what was happening was probably testament to just how serious this was starting to get.

"Is he or is he not married to the girl?" Jekyll questioned.

"You stay out of this!" Lot shot.

"She _is_ his wife, your majesty," Jekyll said. "Come now, let's all be reasonable about this. Louise hardly meant to start up an argument amongst you. And is it good for the child, for you to be having at each other like this?" Lot stared at him in disbelief, then winced and looked at Mordred, who was watching with wide and curious eyes. "Children do tend to imitate, you know," Jekyll pushed ever so cautiously.

That seemed to strike home with lot. The king grimaced then sighed, sitting. He was obviously still put out, but he was starting to take this with more grace now. "I'm sorry for my behavior. Forgive my outburst," he said to them.

"Everyone has a moment," Elsa replied. "Believe me, I know. Now, let's finish dinner and chat about perhaps your plans for resurrecting this place, shall we?" Every one of the knights seemed to light up, leaping at the chance to share their visions for restoring this palace to the best of their ability.

Frozen

"You are a good-tempered and reasonable monarch, Queen Elsa. I was impressed with the way you handled things over dinner. And much ashamed at my behavior in comparison to yours," Lot remarked to her as he strode with her through the palace. He was carrying a sleeping Mordred in his arms, heading towards his bedroom. "I feel you give yourself too little credit as a queen."

"Thank you, King Lot. Your words mean much to me," she replied. "They're certainly a boost to my confidence. I haven't felt like all that competent a queen lately."

"No good ruler ever does, but then that I feel is for the best. It means they'll keep pushing themselves to get better. If a ruler believes themselves to be perfect, then there is no hope for them. In the end they will fall to the ground and be trampled mercilessly underfoot because they will not better themselves and will only get worse. Their own people will be their downfall, if not other royals. Rulers who believe themselves great usually suffer very... bloody fates." He went into Mordred's room. Elsa waited outside for him, watching quietly at he gently lay the child down and tucked him in before bending and kissing his forehead. Rising, Lot returned to her and shut the door quietly behind. "Now, I feel there was something other than my daughter's arrival you wanted to discuss with me?"

"There is, and perhaps you're getting sick of hearing it and sick of the seeming lack of confidence in you, but..." she began.

"Your husband," he said, leading her away from Mordred's room and murmuring quietly to her. Elsa nodded. "As far as I am able, Mordred will never put his hands on Prince Hans."

"Can you promise that?" Elsa asked.

"No," he answered. "But I can promise that before I let him take your husband from you, I will see him dead. More for his sake than for your husband's though, I'm afraid."

"How do you plan to contain him without making him a prisoner?" Elsa asked. "I... I know what it's like, to be locked most of your life away in a castle. Completely isolated."

"I plan to not let that boy out of my sight, or any of the others' sights, under any circumstance. He's free to roam the palace and the grounds at will, we may even take him to town and see what's become of Orkney over the millennia, but he will not quit our sight a single moment. And should he attempt to flee or escape, he will be caught and he will be kept in the palace as long as it takes to get the point across to him never to try such a stupid stunt again. Should he begin to try and murmur against Hans, I will correct him and portray the man in a more positive light in the hopes is starts to change Mordred's opinion of him, and... and if your doctor can perhaps tell me what is wrong with him, or what he suspects, and give me a suggestion of what to give him to help it, I will be certain he sticks to whatever regimen is lined out for him by Physician Henry. I can do many things, Queen Elsa, but I cannot guarantee even that will work always..."

Elsa was quiet. "If he comes after my husband..." she began.

"I know. I received the same declaration from your husband's brother," Lot stated. "You will do what you must to protect the father of your child."

Elsa nodded. "I'll send Henry up to you... I pray that he can help you both," she said. Lot nodded to her gratefully.

Frozen

"You wished to speak with me, majesty," Jekyll said to Lot upon approaching the man in his ancient and ruined throne room. Which still had the power to awe Jekyll, let it be known.

"Regarding Mordred, yes," Lot said. "You're a doctor. If you know what troubles him, if you know how to help him, then please... help me."

"I will try," Jekyll replied. "Can you define any symptoms?"

"It's impossible to define symptoms with the boy, it seems. He assumes things that aren't so, suspects treachery at every turn, feels always like people are speaking behind his back or accusing him, he... he hears his mother's song in his head... Always... Even after her death, even when she wasn't there in life."

"His mother's song?" Jekyll asked.

"A curse upon Arthur, is the long and short of it," Lot replied. "Perhaps upon... upon Mordred too..."

Jekyll nodded. Ah yes, they came from a time where curses were still believed to be real. Of course he could mean the song was an accursed one, but he got the impression Lot hinted at a true curse when speaking of Mordred. Then again could he really talk, he wondered, when one of his closest friends and likely Elsa as well had been presumably genuinely cursed? "Can you sing it?" he asked. "It doesn't seem pertinent, I know, but it may be."

Lot hesitated a moment, looking around uncomfortably like he half expected Mordred to appear from nowhere. He seemed... afraid to sing it almost... Finally, though, he sighed, bowing his head, turned back to Jekyll, and started to sing it almost in a whisper like he was afraid anything louder would be heard by his child somehow or other:

" _Hush child the darkness will rise from the deep and carry you down into,_  
 _Sleep child, darkness will rise from the deep and carry you down..._

 _Guileless son I'll shape your belief and you'll always know that your father's a thief;_  
 _And you won't understand the cause of your grief but you'll always follow the voices beneath that sing:_  
 _Loyalty, loyalty, loyalty, loyalty, loyalty, loyalty, loyalty only to me._

 _Guileless son your spirit will hate her, the flower who married my brother the traitor;_  
 _And you will expose his puppeteer - or puppet sometimes - behavior, for you are the proof of how he betrayed her_  
 _Loyalty, loyalty loyalty, loyalty, loyalty, loyalty, loyalty, only to me._

 _Hush child darkness will rise from the deep and carry you down into,_  
 _Sleep child, the darkness will rise from the deep and carry you down..._ "

He paused for a moment here. "Is there more?" Jekyll asked after a moment.

Lot hesitated and sighed, bowing his head. "Yes," he answered. Then he continued:

" _Guileless son each day you grow older, each moment I'm watching my vengeance unfold;_  
 _For the child of my body, the flesh of my soul, will... will die... returning the birthright he stole..._  
 _Loyalty, loyalty, loyalty, loyalty, loyalty, loyalty, loyalty... only to me..._ "

Frozen

Jekyll was still, expression grave. _He_ could almost believe the song had been a genuine curse... "Does he hear voices, majesty?" he finally asked.

"I... I suspect he does... What makes it tricky is knowing whether or not they are in his mind or aren't..." Lot said.

"What do you mean?" Jekyll asked.

"Morgause and Morgan both were versed I mystic arts. They easily could have infiltrated his mind... corrupted him to their will... But even after Morgause was dead, he still heard the song. He doesn't speak of hearing anything else, just... just the song... And sometimes his mother's voice... Back then his mother was Morgause. Here and now the voice he hears is the voice of I can only assume the woman murdered and assaulted by your brother's men. And perhaps she too cries out for her vengeance and that is what drove him to pursue Hans," Lot said. "They repeat the word loyalty as well sometimes, as they do in the song."

"Any other oddity?" Jekyll asked.

"Where do I begin?" Lot asked with a weary sigh, shaking his head ruefully. "There are fits sometimes, outburst of intense rage or crushing grief or self-hatred or hubris. Sometimes he would hurt himself in a fit... Badly... He can be unsettlingly easy to get into one of those states. He is socially closed off much of the time, though not always. Sometimes he seemed just a child... A child like any other with no signs of oddness or unsettling behavior... But he was and is closed off and very quiet. Usually. Highly intelligent though, and always observing. But the dreams and traumas and voices and unfounded suspicions... I don't know what to do anymore..."

Jekyll was quiet, looking grave again. "It is a disease of the mind, they say, if I am correct in my suspicions. I have one of my own. His, though... They call it psychosis, or perhaps schizophrenia which is another possibility; separate from psychosis but very similar, some suspect on the same scale. Both are... highly distressing and almost impossible to treat... Many methods have been tried. None of them are methods I would ever, ever, ever practice for myself. Inducing fevers, electric shocks to the brain, cutting out portions of the brain to name a few... Things that would make you shudder... And not a single method seems to truly help other than cutting out part of the brain, but that does far more damage than good I feel. I've... seen such procedures... They haunt me to this day... I vowed to myself never, ever to resort to them. Ever. Many people simply call it madness, but that is misleading and not true. There are medicines that might help lesson some of the symptoms, and I will give you those, but I know of none that can truly effectively treat his disorder. I can't... I don't know how to help you. Or how he can be helped. Things are not well for those considered 'mad', in this time. People bricked up in family homes, bound in their rooms, hidden from society... Men and women put in asylums left chained to beds and abandoned to die more or less, or bound naked to the ground in bindings if they are destructive with nothing but straw for comfort... If you take him to town, be as certain as you can he does not have a spell. Or that if he does it is not witnessed. And if it is witnessed, under no circumstances at all will you allow him to be taken away from you, or his fate will be a wicked one indeed... There was an epileptic among your company, if memory served. That is, sudden fits thrusting one to the ground and seeing them seize."

"The Hungarian knight Sagremore," Lot said, looking utterly numbed at Jekyll's words, and more than a little horrified.

"Such a fate would be his as well, were he here among us now and seen to fall upon the ground convulsing," Jekyll stated. "Jarring, really, that your time would let such matters go when for centuries even before then they would not. I am more than a little surprised."

"He-he escaped judgement by calling it a 'battle fervor'. Because of what he was it could be gotten away with. He knew how to play it up as something that wasn't a curse. We weren't fooled with his flowery terms and romanticized excuses, many weren't, but most hardly even cared! We were too busy trying to survive in the dark and middle ages, more the dark, to be bothered with such trivial things. If you could earn your keep, you were good enough. If you couldn't, it was your family's decision how to manage it," Lot said. "Is... is _that_ the fate that will be my son's, then? There's nothing I can do?"

"You have done _so_ well already, your majesty. So very, very well. Better than you can know," Jekyll gently murmured, tentatively placing a reassuring hand on Lot's arm. "You treat him as a human. His life, he, is precious to you and you show him every day he is. You treat him as if he were anyone else with perhaps a few exceptions unique to his situation that you have excellently gotten a handle on I think. I'm sorry that I can offer you so little, but even in this day and age, medical science is not yet ready to tackle such things as this. Things like what he and I have. I am left alone to my devices, or was for most of my life. _He_ has _you_ , though, and that is something more valuable than all the medications in the world. I will of course still give you a prescription for the medicines I know may temper his symptoms, but the rest? It's up to you."

"Can you add to my knowledge at least? _Anything_?" Lot asked.

"Sometimes, should it be very bad, he may not recognize there is anything wrong with his thought process. Insisting he is wrong may worsen it but you must not play along either. Try to redirect his thoughts when his episode has calmed, perhaps. And when he is lucid, you must do your best to explain to him what it is he is going through, as best you can. But not in a way that will make him feel it is something to be ashamed of. I know that to find such a balance may seem impossible, but with little children sometimes a story can help, to help illustrate what's happening to them. With older ones be gentle but practical? You know how best to handle your son. More than I do. Encourage him to do things for himself when he seems not to want to, make sure he doesn't miss taking the medicines I suggest to you, and I _would_ suggest encouraging him to make friends with people who will support him as long as he needs them to, but I feel that perhaps you already have that covered. You and all your company. Keep him goal-oriented too, and sometimes that will help. Your son can still live a full and meaningful life, even despite this. Reduce his stress, empower him... We are not the only ones afraid when he falls into fits or loses control... He is scared too. Terrified, perhaps, of his own feelings and his own loss of control. No shouting, no irritation or anger, decrease distractions... You're doing so well, your excellency. _So_ well. Keep on going as you have been, with perhaps my suggestions thrown in where you haven't applied them before, and you and Mordred both will manage to weather this, and all your companions..." Jekyll replied.

Lot was quiet. "Thank you," he finally said. He would have to transfer this information to Avalon, he determined to himself. For the others to hear and understand. Arthur especially.

Frozen

The ship pulled away from Orkney. Elsa, Franz, Louise, and Jekyll watched as the island faded away, the six knights and the child watching after them. "Will they be alright?" Louise asked in concern. "Especially Lot and that poor child?"

"For a while, at least," Jekyll replied. "Hopefully for the rest of their time here... I think they will do just fine."

"Until the boy is a teenager," Elsa worriedly said. Fourteen, they had told them, was the age where they needed to start to worry...

"As long as Lot is there, the child will fare just fine," Jekyll said.

"He seemed to know what he was doing with the boy. I admire him for it," Franz said. "Now, home sweet home?"

Elsa smiled. "Home sweet home," she confirmed.

"Home sweet home," Louise echoed, grinning at him. Jekyll was silent. He didn't know what home was anymore... Perhaps nowhere for him. Both Britain and Arendelle held such deep scars... But he would get through it, he assured himself, and perhaps one day he would feel at home again.


End file.
